Okay, here we go, my first blog ever. I'm embarrassed to say that all previous blogs have been the contribution of my beautiful and linguistically gifted wife. She not only writes funny, charming, and dare I say provocative blogs, but she lets me bask in the credit of their creation (and if you haven't seen a full grown, 200 pound male of the species, with hair like a gorilla on Rogain, "basking", then you haven't lived!). What a Woman! And, while this is one tremendous perk of being married to such a talented vixen, I think its time for me to hop off the old free ride to blogger infamy and strike out on my own. She shouldn't have to bare the burden of always coming up with the cute, funny little stories that lighten the unbearably mundane lives of our two blogger groupies (whose very happiness, dare I say existence, is intrinsically tied to the tectonic action of her comedic prose).
Yes, I know you crave her stuff; but us Lilliputians of the literary world need our voice too. Like Michelangelo's little brother Jimmy, its time for me to step out from behind the giant shadow cast by "big brother" and sculpt... That's right sculpt. If not the "David" then perhaps the "Tooth Pick Log Cabin" or the no less challenging "Clay Mountain". What ever form this ill advised expression of inner turmoil takes, you can rest assured that it will be pure and tortured. Because, what I lack in talent, charm and good looks, I make up for with determination, the ability to fart on command and hair every where but the top of my head. Thats right folks (and by folks I mean the two of you), this blog has entered a new era, if not for the better than at least its new and that, my pudgy little Internet scavengers, is all any of us can ask for.
P.S.
My wife tells me it's not a good idea to insult the readers (rookie mistake).
Yes, I know you crave her stuff; but us Lilliputians of the literary world need our voice too. Like Michelangelo's little brother Jimmy, its time for me to step out from behind the giant shadow cast by "big brother" and sculpt... That's right sculpt. If not the "David" then perhaps the "Tooth Pick Log Cabin" or the no less challenging "Clay Mountain". What ever form this ill advised expression of inner turmoil takes, you can rest assured that it will be pure and tortured. Because, what I lack in talent, charm and good looks, I make up for with determination, the ability to fart on command and hair every where but the top of my head. Thats right folks (and by folks I mean the two of you), this blog has entered a new era, if not for the better than at least its new and that, my pudgy little Internet scavengers, is all any of us can ask for.
P.S.
My wife tells me it's not a good idea to insult the readers (rookie mistake).
1 comment:
Like a gruesome accident along the side of the rode, I simply can't look away no matter how much I want to. I find myself drawn in by the detailed tapestry of your prose. I'm hooked, and like my addiction to phonics in the 3rd grade, I fear I may never recover. So keep those angst-ridden, emotionally explosive blogs coming. This is one reader who can't get enough.
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