Yeah, I Know.

I suck. I know this. I have not blogged in about 10 years or so, and people are getting angry. I've been getting threatening hate e-mails letting me know that if I don't blog I will be unceremoniously mocked, which in the cyber-world is akin to getting your kneecaps badly bruised by some thug who lacks enough strength to break them. Annoying, but not debilitating.

The truth is, Bitches, you've chosen to follow the blog of a very temperamental writer. I am a scatter-brained perfectionist, which is a combination that makes life interesting for anyone around me (and borderline psychotic for myself). I create best when I'm inspired by something (most often anger at someone or something I deem completely stupid), but even then, if I am not happy with the product of my inspiration, I refuse to share it with anyone. As a result, I have about 4 drafts from times that I have started blogging about something in the last few weeks, but didn't like them enough to actually hit "Publish Post." It's certainly not that I've had any lack of the ridiculous in my life, it's just that I haven't been satisfied enough with my musings about the ridiculous to share.

I know, that's not fair to my Bitches. You should know by now that life isn't fair, so get the fu...wait...no...I shouldn't lash out at the people who have made me the blogging celebrity I am today. It's not your fault I suck. I should just shut the fuck up and rant about something so you junkies can slip back into that euphoric state of bliss where nothing else matters but the pleasure coursing through your veins as you read my creative uses of swear words and insulting adjectives. It's the least I could do, right? I mean after all, without my Bitches, I'd be nothing but a guy with a blog nobody reads. That just doesn't sound like a life I want to lead.

I apologize, Bitches, for slacking. I'll stop being such an unreliable dealer.