Fine, Don't Believe Me

Published 16.2.05 by Porkchop | E-mail this post

I assure you the reason my writings have assumed such a lethargic and generally dull state is merely because my brain has been fried on crack.

Yup. You heard it from me first.

Ok. So maybe it is a TINY bit closer to lack of sleep than crack, but someone is bound to say such a thing, so I thought I would say it first. I'm clever like that, thank you very much.

Once I catch up on my sleep, I am sure my life will become vastly more exciting and I just won't be able to stop writing.

Until then, I'll just keep smoking.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

Fine, Don't Believe Me

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