The Top Ten Reasons Why I Haven’t Updated My Blog
10. I’ve spent every waking hour since May working on my tan. My skin is the color of burnt toast, and its texture is reminiscent of beef jerky. I feel pretty.
9. Inspired by the deranged rantings of a major Hollywood crackpot, I have joined the cult of a mediocre science fiction writer, aka The Church of Scientology. As part of the brainwashing process, my sense of humor has been completely erased. As a result, I am no longer able to find humor in the mewling spastics who call me each day and waste my time with their foolishness. In fact, I am no longer able to find humor in much of anything, which makes “Battlefield Earth” a hell of a lot more difficult to watch.
8. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Hold me.
7. You don’t honestly expect me to stay cooped up indoors writing my blog, when I could be cooped up indoors surfing the internet for free porn and drinking myself to death, do you?
6. A family emergency came up. That is, if by “family” I mean someone I’ve been screwing, and by “emergency” I mean a last-minute invitation to join this person for a 10-week stay at a Sandals resort in the Bahamas, then yes, it WAS a family emergency. Don’t tell my boss, okay?
5. One morning when I was in a horribly foul mood, my boss foisted pictures of his newborn grandson on me. When forced to respond to the inevitable, “Isn’t he the cutest little thing you’ve ever seen?” I honestly replied that he looked like an undercooked meatloaf with eyes. What can I say? I hadn’t had my coffee yet.
4. I’ve decided to channel my creative juices into that gay historical romance novel I’ve always wanted to write. It’s an epic tale of love and sodomy between two pirates, and it’s called, “Bluebeard’s Sword, Blackbeard’s Scabbard.” The book is supposed to be published in time for Valentine’s Day 2006, under the Roughe Trayde imprint. Pre-order your copy now!
3. I finally caved in and followed the urgings of my friends, family, co-workers, and therapist, and started taking industrial-strength antidepressants. My job still sucks ass, of course, but I just don’t care anymore. In fact, I hardly even get upset when I discover that I’ve shit myself. Again.
2. One word, three letters: jail. I swear I didn’t know that the goat was underage.
1. My tragic substance-abuse problem took a turn for the worse three months ago. After injecting a cocktail of embalming fluid and fabric softener into a vein in my eye, I passed out and have only just regained consciousness. My doctor is calling this little episode a coma, but I prefer to think of it as an extended catnap. So can anyone tell me what’s been happening on “Days of Our Lives”?