Crisping The Other Side Of Porkchop

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To my loyal readers, I would like to thank you for your patience as I recover from my narrow encounter with dooce-dom.

In my abscence, I have begun to change. I work out, chat cheerily with my trainer at an ungodly hour, drink lots of water, pretend to eat healthy and have consiquently dropped a cup size. Hence, the staring at the boobage has gotten less frequent, but not all together vanished.

I am not seeking to become entirely humorless, but I am trying to enlarge my blogging muses and subjects. However. This does not come easily to an crusty Porkchop. Bear with me. But if you stop reading altogether, I will be completely understanding. (As if you were seeking my approval for that paticular decision.)

I may, at times, become introspective, suicidal, irritatingly opinionated and generally pointless. No worries! I am not becoming a well-rounded, sweet or demure person. No matter how many times Porkchop writhes on the skillet, there will never be an outcome of candy-striper cheer. (Or stripper for that matter. CANDY STRIPPER! MY NEW STAGE NAM--. Oh. Yes. Introspection. Back to introspection.)

For my faithful readers who told me I was funny, thank you ever so much. For those of you who read me for my scathing commentary, thank you. For those of you who will stick with me through this transition, thank you as well.

Thank you all, and goodnight.

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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.

the past


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