Writing My Wrongs

This is literally the eleventh time I have returned to writing fully expecting to retain a readership that no longer exists. There was a time (2005) when I had loyal followers and a book deal on the table. What the FUCK happened?! One second I'm on a path to fame and fortune or at least an untouched shelf in Half Price Books, and the next I'm in Serbia, half naked in an alley with my zipper stuck in some cobblestone. All I had on me was a half full syringe (Optimist) of fake B12 and a lizard named Kenny. It was a fall from grace to say the least!

So, amidst the last dark few years; I'm back with the vigor of a mathlete. Will I deliver any intellectually stimulating content? Nope. Will I write most blogs in my underwear after drinking not two but three Dr. Peppers? Undoubtedly so. You're most likely questioning yourself for reading this far and I can't say I blame you, but stick with me for a minute.

Animal bites. You heard me. I'm currently healing from a vicious duck bite. This particular duck wasn't exactly painting at grandma's quality. It looked like its mother was raped by a Steve Buscemi look alike. It made its nest under a bush next to my front door, and had the audacity to attack like I was invading its duck space. It was quacking a different tune when I came home with Whataburger, though. Yeah devil duck, I'm just clamoring to give you some fries after all the torment and bird antics. Go duck yourself (Couldn't help it).

So, how's this going so far? I'm not going to lie, it feels good to me. Let's have a smoke. Maybe we can do this again? No? I'll try to write multiple times a week and even daily if my meth guy ever comes through. Still no, huh? Well, I'm going to write regardless of your negativity. I have a writing career to redeem. Do you think Hemingway gave a shit about his readers? Hell no. He fit the writing in after all the drinking and sex with immigrants. I'll be fine whether you're on board or not (No. No I won't). Let's try and work this thing out. I'll try my best to give you a break from reading your depressing friend's Facebook statuses or incessantly clicking refresh on your email. I'm back...for now. Okay, I'm off to watch the Women’s World Cup while trying to pretend I'm not staring at their erect nipples. Ciao