top of page

it's not a shy one.

my friend sent me a message recenlty asking for more posts. naturally, i was taken aback by his interest and quickly discarded any shred of humility available in exchange for visions of grandeur. i sat at my desk and tried to drum up all my profound thoughts (of which there are many, naturally). and so i sat. at my desk. in my car. in my chair. in the tub. at my computer. i wrote long sentences (online thesaurus) and coined a few snappy post titles (the invisible bar; crapbooking; the equal parts of two evils; etc. & tba). awesome. for a minute. and then i looked again and saw my big fat head staring back at me. the wind left my sails as i realized that a.) i'm often full of it (shit); b.)when i say often i mean always; c.) when i say shit i mean myself; d.) i'm always full of myself when i think others are, should be, or will be soon (full of me). e.) i'm probably still full of it right now. f.) when i say probably i mean certainly. *i'd like to dedicate this post to adam, who may be regretting the friendship as we speak. too late h., too damn late.

Recent Posts
bottom of page