Seven Deadly Sins Haven't Killed Me Yet
Another Damn Post About Boredom
It always takes a cocktail for me to give a shit about this site and post anything. I haven’t compiled any morning readings in weeks. I barely watch the news. I haven’t opened the “News” folder in Google Reader in that long also. I’ll perform a swift read of headlines (maybe) and say fuck it. I just don’t care anymore about this pitiful planet and the endless opinion fabricators. Everybody’s got a goddamn opinion and I am sick of all of them. Except one.
I will open the Fashion, Gossip, Gay, Music and Art folders in Google Reader; those are a distraction and do not require thought or insightful analysis. Usually. I could regurgitate that reading, but why bother.
All I manage to post here is my endless disdain. I might start therapy again, but what’s the purpose of paying ridiculous sums to a stranger when I can babble to myself far cheaper. Three-digit “guidance” never fulfills as it should. Shoes lasts longer than psycho-babble. Therapy has its place in this world, but mundane issues of everyday angst aren’t worth the price. I dealt with the “real” issues in the late 90s. And it wasn’t cheap.
Speaking of therapy, Carrie Fisher’s Wishful Drinking is a delightful read. I definitely don’t need ECT, but she has a wit that is more entertaining than the rest of humanity.
So, don’t expect much from me until I start the War in Defense of Christmas. It’s the only endeavor I enjoy besides food. Hell, I might put up a Xmas tree in the next week for the helluva it. If I do, I will post.
Either follow me on Twitter or become a Facebook “friend” as that crap distracts me more.
Until then, I will amuse myself with The Virgin Spanking The Christ Child.
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