I'd Avoid This One If I Were You

I started blogging at a point in my professional life, which one might politely describe as a 'pregnant pause'. I was hoping that the result of the seemingly never-ending gestation period would be a spectacularly well paying writing job. Instead, what popped out after hours of yelling, screaming and bloody mayhem, was this blog.

The momentum was brisk, the writing came fast & fluid. The mind, numbed by hours of watching television, was ready to indulge in creative pursuits. It was unselfconscious, it was honest, it was fun. Quality standards met most of the specifications of its sole reader, who coincidentally happened to be its writer.

It seems now that the blog has reached that point in its life when it wants to stick its head in the oven: not necessarily to annihilate itself, but perhaps to see how it'll all turn out. It's not the best way to go about business, hoping a sexy firefighter (the kind that only exists in American sitcoms) comes and rescues it, but its the most fun thing this blog has done in a while.

Yeeeeaaaaah. So. Like. Whatdja wanna do? I don't know, whaddooyou wanna do? I don't know.

Ok, my television is dying on me. Let me get up off this bed and go slap it on its side.

The Eric Dane effect

Saw Valentine's Day on big screen with a hallful of squealing young ladies.
I swear to God our collective neural pathways ceased to function the second Eric Dane came on shirtless.
Then just before the entire audience could be declared brain dead & on the verge of being in a vegetative state for the rest of their lives, he put some clothes on.

Seriously - never have I felt less capable of adult logical thought as I did then.

I guess now I know how men feel all the time...