I realize that my past few blog entries have been a little less than personal. I haven't let my guard down and let any of you get to know the "real" me. That's because you might not like what you see...or what you meet, I guess. Ultimately, there's a chance that you won't like what you find out, or I suppose once you've found out, it'll become what you know. About me.
What I mean to say is that I'm something of a paradox, a riddle, an enigma. No, that's too generous...maybe more like a short, poorly-thought-out dirty limerick that doesn't rhyme. I'm kind of like a haiku with too many syllables. A short, ineffective poem.
I didn't fill out the "about me" section on my Blogger profile because it would be far, far too involved, I'm way, way too deep. I also don't have my last name on here. If you Google Image Searched my full name, you'd find a mug shot of the registered sex offender from Kentucky who has my same name but with the first and last names reversed. I guess you could possibly say I'm kind of like that guy; we're roughly the same age. Except I'm not a sex offender, I don't weigh 350 pounds, and I don't live in Kentucky.
I want to really tell you who I am, what I'm about, and where I'm going in life. I need you to understand my message, my raison d'etre, my modus operandi. Right now I'm eating guacamole.
I need to connect with you: I live in an apartment. I may or may not own an office chair.
Enough about me - let's talk about you. Where are you from? What were your parents like when you were growing up? Hmm, yeah. That's interesting. Can I borrow $50? Does it bother you when people write things like "$50 dollars"? What kind of music do you listen to? "Everything"? Oh, you mean "the radio". I've listened to that. Seriously though about the $50. Can I borrow it.
But I do really want to get to know you, to find out what makes you tic (sic). Once I had a tick on my leg and I tried to burn it off with a match. I didn't realize you're supposed to just blow the match out and place the hot ember against the tick's body, causing it to back out of its bite; I just kept burning my leg and the tick I think died without releasing me. I went to the hospital, where a doctor very clinically and patronizingly removed it with a pair of surgical-grade tweezers. I was like ten years old. OK, it was earlier today. I'm sorry, what were you saying about yourself?
Let me stop you there. If you were a tick, do you think you would take pleasure in spreading lyme disease to people? Wait, before you answer - same question, but with you as a mosquito spreading malaria. You're a mosquito, with malaria, buzzing through the jungle, it's really hot, and you spy a group of slow-moving white people on safari. Do you look forward to possibly killing one of them? You, the tiny mosquito, killing a member of the most vicious, dangerous species on the planet? Don't answer that just yet.
Well, I'm happy that we've taken this chance to get to know each other. You know a little bit more about me, and I know more than enough about you. You're disgusting.