OUT OF ORDER

Hey Blugs,

Sorry for the slow-ass posting lately, I have been like this thing here:


A Slow Little Ass

The reason I haven't been around much is that, well, I've been posting on another site. And I think we should take some time apart. Yeah call me what you will, but we both know this hasn't been working. So let's stop pretending and do the grown-up thing, for both of us. And don't say shit about the other site, you haven't even seen it. It's beautiful.



For serious though, I am taking a little hiatus till just after the Olympics (end of Feb.), and when I get back this baby is going to cook. I am going to post about cooking babies. Every day. Yeah you could have thought of it, but you didn't, I did.

So thanks for being patient lately, and if you want to check out the other site you can find it here.

See You Soon Natalies, See You Sooooooooooon......

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LOL ADMIN>

Mr. Sensitive

Blargh! King Kong in 'King Kong' says: "Blaaaargh!"

Today I took a test called 'How Sensitive are You?'. It was a series of questions about all kinds of weird shit, and I guess at the end it would tell you how sensitive you are. I say 'I guess' because I didn't get to the end. I only got to the second question, and if there is one thing life has taught me it is this:

'There is no brass ring for a second place loser'.

It is a good thing I knew this already, otherwise I may have come to be fairly disappointed at not having a payoff at question two.

The reason, however, that I did not get past question two, is that the question sent me adrift in my own imagination and whimsy. They say euphoria is the marrow sucked from the bones of life's great surprises, and suck the bone I did!



Imagine my sweet surprise when I finished up question one ('what is your name?') and looked down at question two, bolded on the crisp page, staring up at me, wet eyes full of wonder:

WHAT DO YOUR NAME?

I felt like I was floating on air. Seriously one of the top five experiences of my life. Probably top three even. Honestly it could even crack into the top two, and may even have a shot at number one.



You know what? Fuck it! It is number one, the best thing that has ever happened to me. I just sat there staring at it, letting it roll around my mind, unravel it's long, prying tentacles into the darkest cavities and recesses of my body.

But to answer? Gad, where to begin. What, in fact, does do my name?

Clothing label makers from my summer camp once did my name. Printed up about 50 of them to attach to every sock and self-addressed envelope packed neatly in my suitcase. But that could not be it, that seems far too simple.



I suppose I could consult a group of interpretive dancers, and they could get all metaphysical and do my name. But that seems all too familiar.



And then it hit me, kind of like that epiphany that Robin Williams has in Good Will Hunting about how Will is just a kid and his mind might be rich with knowledge but he has no experience to back it up.

'What do your name?'.

Of course. So simple, right under my nose the whole time.

In the words of Bill Shakespeare:


'These are the ABC's of me baby!'

I DO ME.
I DO ME.
I DO ME.

LEO: He does him.

I DO ME.

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LOL ADMIN>