ye olde crapfest

i am not dead after all... in fact, i've simply been working. working, working, working. we bought another company and doubled our clientele, but i'm STILL the one and only employee, hence i'm the only one doing double the work.

it's pretty lame.

otherwise, things are good. totally stable, totally predictable, totally undramatic. it's all well and good, though i do sometimes pine for those days gone by when i had not a damn thing to worry about the world was my slippery disgusting oyster and i could stay up past eleven and sleep past six thirty...

i just figured i should say something, even if i didn't really have much of anything to say. i'm in a bit of a rut, i suppose... i don't do much besides watch movies (chuck and buck, recently... it was "oodly oodly oodly oodly oodly oodly fun fun fun"), watch tv (LOST... fuckers, check it out i'm not kidding, it's frosted flakes grrrrrreat), and clean house (god i need a maid).

i apologize for slacking on the blog, but the funny just ain't in me much lately... it's a gay side-effect of this whole "working all the effin' time" thing, and if it continues much longer i'm going to have to put a stop to it, for the sake of the children. i'm thinking the 'fest, like so many of it's contemporaries (see: minusworld, sailordew, the nextist, on and on...) has just about run its course. sharing my genius with the world didn't quite turn out the way i wanted it to, so fuck it. ha.

i may write a book, you never know... i've been toying with the idea. for some reason, i don't know if my ellipses (that's the dot dot dots) will work very well in book form, but i could be wrong.

so until next time, peace out, my homies. and yes, shoob, please blog about the 8th grade vacation fun-a-thon extravaganza, that shit was classic. later, gators.