Writing about yourself is actually very easy, unless you plan to be honest about yourself, in which case, it kind of sucks the big one. I don’t think it’s too difficult to write about the life you’re living because it’s kind of obvious unless you have a “malignant secret” dwelling in that pesky id of yours. But writing about how you got to this spot can be trying. It’s a good thing I have all this extra time to work on it because my only job prospects at the moment are winning the lottery and Charlie Sheen’s Tiger Blood Intern position. Both have about the same chance of coming to fruition which is just fine by me. Though to be Charlie Sheen’s Social Media Intern AND have $50 million in the bank would be pretty sweet. It will be sometime before I can open the door to my penthouse wearing my boxers and drinking champagne straight from the bottle, so until then I will knuckle down and concentrate on writing out the ridiculous stories that have made up my life so far, then try to find someway to make them all work as a cohesive narrative. For the next little while I be walking the street with my inner self trying to figure out the route that brought us thus far.
If Charlie calls, I’ll take it in my office.
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.”
Some people drink. Some people smoke crack. Me? I make blogs.
My other blog, The Loudmouth Bear, is over on WordPress.com and deals mostly with Vancouver and my adventures in the city. This blog is designed for my inner imp, the blogger who longs to fill the Internet with what Tom Wolfe calls “narcissistic shrieks and baseless information.”
Let the games begin.