June 11, 2006


OH HOW i wish the blogosphere was the way it used to be, because there are three to four people who I would like to link to and simply say this: shut the fuck up. And if now was then, I would just do it. And we'd go a few rounds and come out the better.

But now's not then and there's all of this civility bullshit you have to consider. Plus i have clients who read me (LOVE YOU!) but I never ever ever let that bother me because I want clients who understand what we are DOING here is talking and engaging and becoming, and sometimes THAT ISN'T PRETTY OR CIVIL, and my clients do understand that. God bless their shiny little heads.

But see, it's my tags, it's tags that are pulling me into discussions about tech and web 2.0 and blogging by these SAME people, droning echoes between my ears as they yammer on and on about the same old same crap, their cadence annoys me; it's as regular as clockwork. They are driving me to distraction with their predictability and vanilla-ness.

Sure, it might have something to do with the steroids, but I think this whole illness thing has been like a week long drunk for me. You know, they say the stuff that comes out when you're drunk is what you really think since you're more honest because your guard is down? WELL, if that's true, then enter steroids, and my guard is a motherfucker, and I think maybe the real me is nearly ready to EXPLODE with A PERSONAL invitation to the melonheads littering the Internet with the remains of their circle-jerk wackoffs  to take their playthings and head to another sandbox.

web 2.0, zebo, nebo, crebo, flickr, bendr, mothrfuckr, whatevr!

and what, was W.H. Auden going on about with Freud--you don't think he was pleasuring the good doctor behind the tavern with the thatched roof? I don't know, I'm asking is what I'm doing.

you can't answer these things for me. and that's okay. but you can do one thing, you can start writing with something other than your fingers and a keyboard. You can bring your heart here, and your balls, and your bare ass. You could do that much.

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