It's not easy being universally loved...why is why I'm not

You are pig-shit Irish and would do the world a great favor if you went and sat on a train track. It will be a fine day when the Scene either folds and or lays you off. Perhaps Sam Fulwood III, late of the Cleveland Plain Dealer and you could share a van, down by the river. That's where self-absorbed, jack-off writers go when everyone gets sick of their bullshit. So if I see you selling the Homeless Grapevine on the street outside the of the Westside Market, you'll know me by how I spit on your stupid, cow like face as I go by. I don't like you.

So the self-revelation track is off the tracks for a day or two. Not to worry, it's for a previously-scheduled reality check, and things should be back to (what passes for) normal shortly. Or not. Who in the Hell knows? When I say that I'm making this up as I go, I'm not kidding. Stay tuned....

The quote above is from my new favorite blog (OK, so I have a LOT of favorites. Work with me here....). If there's one thing I admire in a blogger is a facility for the written word, if only because there's so much unfiltered and unmitigated crap out there. Hopefully, I don't qualify for that appellation, but I suppose that's in the eye of the beholder. Then again, I've been called far worse that a "self-absorbed, jack-off writer". Hey, it sure as Hell beats being ignored, eh? If I've pissed someone off to the point where they begin frothing at the mouth...well, advantage Jack, no? The good news is that I've made them think...which, come to think of it, might also be bad news. On some level, it's flattering to know that someone might think me enough of a threat to to their safety and secuity that they'd willingly waste brain cells, energy, and righteous indignation on me. Besides, how pathetic does one have to be in order to treat another human being in such a vile, mean-spirited manner? Get over yourself.

Those who can, do. Those who can't bitch and moan about those of us who can and do. Hey, they're just words and ideas, y'all; no one's coming after your children here....