The brilliance of this blog is a lot like an orgasm from a celibate man. It’s more than you expect, a little overwhelming and will most likely get you right between the eyes.
Like an intellectual money shot that gets in your eyes and blurs your vision for a moment.
FYI, some of these images are meant to be disturbing.
A little like a mental Rolfing that leaves you refreshed, but in a little or a lot of pain.
So, that being said, here is the wisdom.
Your shit is not that fucking important.
Before you dismiss that, think about it, not read it and sip your soy milk, 2 shot, caramel latte with cinnemon and sprinkles that you paid $6.99 no less, and actually think about it.
Let me define “Shit” for you.
Shit is a generic term with rude imagery for a purpose.
It denotes your politics, food choices, pets, children, religious beliefs, and anything not covered previously in this sentence.
Now for the other shoe.
Not that fucking important means Not that fucking important to anyone else.
This whole train of thought was brought on by some over the top statements on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram by some serious attention whoring drama queens that all make the same sad desperate “Look at me” statements.
If you like (Insert person, cause or belief) then unfriend me now. (Insert a whiny point of view usually based on poorly reported biased news.)
It wears on you after awhile.
One particularly stunning woman I know made this comment to anyone thinking about voting for a political candidate that they don’t like.
I didn’t unfriend her, but I did unfollow her, she is a fan of the blog. (I truly hope she reads this and understands that its nothing personal, but she is a dipshit. She also like to post lingerie pics that are worth seeing. Don’t judge me.)
Unfollowing is a good way of making sure that when I post, they get my post, but I don’t have to be bothered with their fleshy-headed bullshit any more than I have to.
At first glance, you might think there is a mean edge to this post, today.
Far from it.
This is more of the blogging version of tough love.
Like a stern parent or a tough cop, occasionally, I have to go upside your head to get your attention and change your perspective.
And, like all children of stern parents, you try to rebel, bitch about how harsh it is and then, years later, you realize how goddam right I am.
And yet, there is also a seedy side to this.
Like I have said before, to achieve the pure innocence that I have, you have to travel just as far down other side of the scale so it all balances out.
And yet, I never rebelled against my parents.
I don’t view that as a weakness of character, especially when its the opposite.
You would have to know the absolute forces of nature I call mom and dad just to understand that synchronicity made total sense.
Mom is a total therapist, been a professional psychic for over half a century, and dad is the original man, a mechanic with a rock solid lock on how a man behaves in the world.
My gratitude for the luck of my birth and my parents is boundless.
And here we are.
I do not view their influence as having to do with the cruder side of this blog, that unfortunately, is all me.
I have taken what they gave me, and turned myself into some sort of sex worker in print.
You come here, once a week, do your business, avoid eye contact, then leave awkwardly.
You could at least leave the money on the dresser on your way out.
Or a cup of coffee.