The blog is out...somebody call the dogcatcher!
I sent out the band email note show pimp the other day and without thinking about it really at all included a link to this blog in it. The email list has lots and lots of folks on it from all walks of my varied and dichotomous life. Some have seen the band lots of times, others never will but like to get the emails and giggle at whatever it is I’m blabbering about. The emails themselves though are pretty tame, not at all like the crapola I routinely spew on here.
Y’see, due to the schizophrenic life I have built for myself I know lots of people in very different social and philosophical circles and I buzz with them all pretty easily. I enjoy having beers and shooting the shit with my buddy Wendell about our kids and football and people we think are dumb just as much as I do passing out on the bar at some biker bar after binge drinking with my buddy Trey talking about horrid experiences and saying equally horrid things about people we think are dumb (my loathing of those I find idiotic seems to be the constant thread in the macramé of my relationships).
Anyway, the blog has always been me venting away from the side of my brain that is geared more towards my dreg-like companions, the musicians and drunks and atheists and such and I took it as far as I could to be entertaining to myself in that section of my world (if that makes any sense). This blog is for Philito and Trey and the like I guess, although there’s no cover charge and I have pretty lax policies on fake I.D.s regarding my readership.
After I sent the email I realized that I opened up this part of my noggin to folks who weren’t familiar with it, and got a quick twinge to the gut about the repercussions of doing so. I mean, lots of people seem to think that stories about the President having sexual urges towards his marital aid wielding mom are funny, as do I, but for some folks I can see how they would think, “someone needs to call social services about those poor children!!!
But I came around to the realization that this is obviously a part of me just like the more Walton-esque parts of my life and if I’m ashamed by it then I should probably knock it off which I have no intention of doing so I guess it’s up to those that know me to figure me out for themselves. I ain’t such a bad guy really, unless you’re George Bush or the bass player for Voodoo Blue. If you’re them I assume you want to put a boot in my ass. But really, who cares about either of them?
The show that I have been gearing up for is this Saturday. I’m pretty much planning on going bat-shit insane so if you want to see that, come see that. It’s going to be a big fun time and I’d love to meet you all, unless you're a dick then please go about your business elsewhere.
Y’see, due to the schizophrenic life I have built for myself I know lots of people in very different social and philosophical circles and I buzz with them all pretty easily. I enjoy having beers and shooting the shit with my buddy Wendell about our kids and football and people we think are dumb just as much as I do passing out on the bar at some biker bar after binge drinking with my buddy Trey talking about horrid experiences and saying equally horrid things about people we think are dumb (my loathing of those I find idiotic seems to be the constant thread in the macramé of my relationships).
Anyway, the blog has always been me venting away from the side of my brain that is geared more towards my dreg-like companions, the musicians and drunks and atheists and such and I took it as far as I could to be entertaining to myself in that section of my world (if that makes any sense). This blog is for Philito and Trey and the like I guess, although there’s no cover charge and I have pretty lax policies on fake I.D.s regarding my readership.
After I sent the email I realized that I opened up this part of my noggin to folks who weren’t familiar with it, and got a quick twinge to the gut about the repercussions of doing so. I mean, lots of people seem to think that stories about the President having sexual urges towards his marital aid wielding mom are funny, as do I, but for some folks I can see how they would think, “someone needs to call social services about those poor children!!!
But I came around to the realization that this is obviously a part of me just like the more Walton-esque parts of my life and if I’m ashamed by it then I should probably knock it off which I have no intention of doing so I guess it’s up to those that know me to figure me out for themselves. I ain’t such a bad guy really, unless you’re George Bush or the bass player for Voodoo Blue. If you’re them I assume you want to put a boot in my ass. But really, who cares about either of them?
The show that I have been gearing up for is this Saturday. I’m pretty much planning on going bat-shit insane so if you want to see that, come see that. It’s going to be a big fun time and I’d love to meet you all, unless you're a dick then please go about your business elsewhere.
posted by Castor OiL at
1:44 PM
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