Fuck a hole in the ground! Do you remember when blogging was cool? I don't. I've drank way too much moonshine to remember 2006. Nowaday's I'm tweeting. That's all my old bones can handle. Sentences, not paragraphs. I'm 28 now, dear reader. How am I supposed to find the time to entertain you when it takes me an hour to comb my hair and buckle up my boots?
Actually, if I'm honest, I'm stronger than I've ever been. You guys really should see me naked. It's worth the drive. The reason I'm not writing more is because certain institutions are forcing me to write about Plato, fantasy sports, and diffusion of innovations. It's a bore, my friend, but someone has to do it.
Some of my writings have aroused interest. I'll be in Seattle and Vancouver in early March to present my work. Would you like to network? Call the Moustachio hotline to inquire.
In other news, I'm engaged to a lovely young woman named Shirley Tiverington. She's obese and poor, but she knows several professional field goal kickers. I said from day one...I don't care about appearances or money. I just want to be with someone that can introduce me to Mike Vanderjagt.
I have new friends. I'm so fucking popular it's not even funny how fucking likeable I am. Holy Fuck my personality is like a waterfall. No one can take their eyes off me. People see angels when they are around me. Just ask T-Bone, The Thrill, Dirty Dave, El Jefe, and the rest of the crew. They can't get enough of this shit.
Is there anything I need to know about? What's going on in blog world? Can someone inform me? Are you guys ok? Are you happy? I hope so.
But fuck you guys right now. I gotta gchat.