CONGRATULATIONS!
You have successfully stumbled into the first entry of a NEW adventure
in journal writing! Although it's actually nothing more than the
pointless continuation of 20 years of old-fashioned scribbling coupled
with all the charmingly post-modern hassles of HTML, I chose to ignore
that fact. With luck and pluck, so can YOU! (Note: This is NOT a
guarantee. If irritation with this uneasy marriage of past and future
persists, see your doctor.)
Random Reader Here
Only Because Of A Flawed Search Engine Response To A Request For "Boob"
Sites: Excuse me, but do you intend to continue this annoying style of
writing, like, forever?
By no means! The purpose of this journal is to lance my head and drain away the excess build-up of words within it before their accumulation further damages my cerebellum. It would be a pretty poor lance that could only be used in a single way in a single spot, eh, Bowser? And it would be a pretty poor journal that could only be used to drain away foolish words wrapped in an affected tone. So don't despair! This entry's annoying style will be offset by even worse sorts before you know it.
Wise Woman From The East (covering the eyes of a poodle on the verge of tears): You certainly have never taken a course in marketing, have you?
Fuck off.
That is to say, it's
way too nice a day to spend all our time asking and answering questions,
don't you think? It is, in fact, no less than approximately our 10th
day here in Ohio of beautiful weather. Blue skies, no humidity, few
bugs, and a temperature which has steadily increased from the 50s to the
80s over the course of the last week or so - by far the best time of year
my fair state has to offer. Ahhhh, smell the lilac bush just outside
my office window, now in full bloom! See the pretty purple wildflowers
dotted my east lawn! Behold the redbud trees now in full bloom! Come
- let's thrill together to the pleasures of feeling the first warm breezes
of 1999, wafting through my windows, so oddly, fully opened after so many,
many months as mere transparent walls!
One Of The Tiny Voices In My Head That Actually Speaks English: So if things are so great, why don't they make you happy?
That would be a question, my dear.
The Tiny Voice: And that would be an evasion. How about you try an answer?
Ugh. Suffice it to say that even the best of days do not offset the worst, in weather or anything else.
The Tiny Voice: But it's a perfect day. How could it be any better?
Oh, ye of little awareness and less imagination! Isn't it obvious that the worst weather days bring with them the danger of instant-death-forever but the best ones do NOT bring with them the slimmest possibility of instant-immortality-forever? One can so easily envision an icy road, a slip of tires, a cartoonish "KA-BOOM!" followed by blood and pain and cosmic amnesia. The papers are full of such stories every year. But have you ever read of someone falling off their sun-drenched back deck into money and joy and utter enlightenment? Nope! Nada! NEVER! It just isn't fair. And the unfairness that's intrinsic to even the best of days leaves me feeling... melancholic. Does that answer the question? Is it really better than an evasion? Hello?
(Memo To Self: You're losing the readers in your own head. Might want to stop before you lose all those in the heads of others as well.)
(All Material Not An Obvious
Rip-Off Of Some Other Aspect Of Western Civilization © 1999 by Dan
Birtcher)
