Read My Lips - the blog

The problem is essentially binary in nature

^{~silently drummin' fingers on the dais waitin' for the unruly crowd to assemble~} Friends, associates, and that one or two of mine enemies that linger in your midst, I come before you, head held erect in recognition of the high esteem that has been bestowed upon me by this august assembly.^{~rudely awakened durin' daydream of bein awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Literary Achievement in Blog Creativity by barkin' dogs~} Oh no, I was bloggin' ag'in in a catatonic state. Vie on you, Bill the Cat. Whatever has infected you all these years is communicable to humans. Now I'll have to stay away from the funny papers. ^{~Nope, that was goin' nowhere~} Maybe I ought to zombie out ag'in and let my subconscious have the reins. That'd kinda be like the closest thing to actually lettin' my navel do the postin', huh? Surprisin'ly, though, it is a wonder how much of the stuff you find on this blog was actually composed while I was unconscious. I dream up most of this crap, ya know - while I'm supposedly awake, usually while I'm doin' other stuff, like drivin', watchin' TV, or listenin' to the radio, or, as strange as it may seem, while I am starin' at a blank wall, blank page, or down at my navel. O' course, as Serenity said

I may not be “on” every day

although I would have likely phrase it more like

I may not be "on" ever'day

and it is entirely possible that today could be one of my "off" days. There are some that I am often "off" -- my rocker, that is. Those people don't really know the half of it. See, I am somewhat akin to 12-year-old Jay "Jaybird" Greenburg, the music prodigy from NYC who has already penned five full-length symphonies, despite the very fact that my talents, unlike his, are not musical:

Greenberg says music just fills his head and he has to write it down to get it out

.No, my talent lies totally in the realm of snarky inane prose composin'. However, unlike beautiful melodic symphonies, there is jes' not much market for crap. I wish there was, 'cause all these weird thoughts 'bout stuff I see and hear jes' start fillin' up my head and I have to write the crap down to get it out of there. I'm afraid if I don't, it'll start eatin' away at what's left of my feeble mind.

OK, who turned off the lights? It's too bad she won't live! But then again, who does? I can't see my navel. I hope it's still there. End of report.

I have had people walk out on me before, but not when I was being so charming.

Posted by Tiger at November 28, 2004 11:05 PM