An Open Letter to My Testicles by Barack Obama

An Open Letter To My Testicles

by Barack Obama

"When I was a young man, I thought life was all about me - about how I'd make my way in the world, become successful, and get the things I want. But then the two of you came into my world with all your curiosity and mischief and those smiles that never fail to fill my heart and light up my day. And suddenly, all my big plans for myself didn't seem so important anymore. I soon found that the greatest joy in my life was the joy I saw in yours. And I realized that my own life wouldn't count for much unless I was able to ensure that you had every opportunity for happiness and fulfillment in yours. In the end, boys, that's why I ran for President: because of what I want for you from every girl in this nation. "

(He's using Hallmark cards to create his speeches now. Genius!)

Circumstances have changed. I have a decision to make. Shall I go private and forever limit who can read my blog to a handful who today may be interested, but tomorrow will likely have moved on to other things? Shall I call it a day and end here? Should I move to another location, emailing those who express interest to tell them where I have gone to? Or shall I ignore everything and just continue to blunder onward, letting the chips fall where they may and to hell with the consequences?

Consequences, Schmonsequences, as long as I'm rich

There was once a time when I blogged for no one, expecting no one to come and read my stupidity except myself. I had been encouraged to become a writer, specifically an op/ed columnist, and I thought this blog would be the perfect place to practice. I had expected the daily writing to improve my writing skills. As it turns out, I believe my spelling and grammar have grown worse, my ability to stick to a point or drive steadily toward a single conclusion have not improved in the least, my op/ed political commentary has gone from a confident and consistent view to a more "fuck it, let's all get drunk and throw food at the whole lot of'em" attitude, and my enthusiasm for daily writing about anything that strikes my fancy has waned.

Today, I blog as much for the entertainment of the other bloggers whom I admire as I do for myself. Not that I stop offending all of you whenever the mood strikes me. I mean, clearly I write offensive things when I feel like it. I hold firmly to the view that my blog is nothing more than a drunken rant in a bar somewhere and has no real influence on anyone or anything of consequence regardless of how many times I hear television reporters mention "The Bloggers" on the air. I know who they mean, and it isn't me. This being the case, then, it matters to me who does and to a lesser extent, who does not read my blog. When I detect someone reading my blog who comes a little too close to home it sometimes bothers me. The fact is, the more anonymous a writer is, the more easily that writer can say whatever there is a need to say. Conversely, when your name, face and home address are plastered to something you've written, it greatly impacts your willingness to speak freely.

So, decisions decisions. Shall I stay or shall I go? If I could access YouTube from here I'd paste that song in below. But as I cannot, you'll simply have to go find it for yourself and pretend I pasted it, OK? Thanks.

Oh, and happy Australia Day, by the way, you lucky bastards!

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