Whatever this is that I'm sick with has transformed all of my farts into projectile pooping. It seems that anything that feels like the tiniest of farts is in actuality a gigantic explosion of poo waiting to surprise me. And surprise me it does. It's quite messy, in fact.
Obama's inauguration is over, but here in America we'll be bombarded with adoring media rehashing of the whole thing for days on end. It seems that every word that comes out of Obama's mouth is just angelic heavenly music to the Left, the Liberals, and the True Believers who worship him as a gigantic black god.
I wonder if they'd love him so much if they knew that all those words are written by a 27-year-old white boy from Massachusetts College of the Holy Cross? No wonder all his speeches sound so much like a church sermon. It's because they are.
Enough about Messiah Obama though. The TV and newspapers are going to give us all such a massive overdose of him that I'm almost afraid to even mention him for fear that when the nausea finally hits The Masses, they might tune me out along with all the rest. Lord knows I don't need that.
Just today, in response to my ass' last random thoughts about Obama, someone dropped me from their list of blogs they follow. I only had 17 followers so it was easily noticable. And all for the worship of a politician. Such a waste.
Speaking of people dropping me, my favorite blogger in all the world, whom I have known for 3 years, has apparently dropped me from their life. I don't hear from them anymore. My emails are like the morning paper, bouncing off the garage door, never to be picked up or read. The rain is just washing my words away. Perhaps I offended them? Perhaps they were just too polite to tell me that they were rather tired of me and wished I'd quietly leave? I'll never know, but I'll always wonder. And I'll miss them more than I can possibly express in words.
Another friend, a girl named Courtney whom I have known now for 5 years, abruptly cut me off, dropping me on Facebook and even blocking me. It seems that we have a mutual friend, a guy I've known since college. His mother, a militant misandric feminist, was my advisor in the College of Science at the university where I earned my degree. His younger sister, a violent sex-offender and even bigger misandric sexist than his mother, graduated high school with me. He's older than I am and on occasion several of us harass him for being 'the world's oldest bachelor.' Well, growing up in a household with a dead father and 2 man-hating feminists can sometimes do that to a man, so we don't really blame him for his problems maintaining a relationship with women. But we do embarass him every once in awhile. Anyway, this time I embarassed him in front of this girl we both know when I called him the world's oldest bachelor. He's sensitive about age, as I discovered. He was unusually quiet and later took her aside and slammed me. He denies he said anything mean, but clearly whatever he didn't say was so extreme that she promptly dropped and blocked me, not even bothering to speak to me. I have no idea what he said, or rather didn't say, because you know he insists he said nothing. The problem is, he's not very good at lying, while I am very good at detecting when people are lying. The combination makes for interesting conversations. Not that we'll be having any more of those any time soon. With friends like these ...
He's a brand new deacon at the local Baptist Church, by the way. BooYA!
A third party in this triangle of love, old age, and the internet, is The Girlie, the girl I have been advising on her love life for a year and a half now. She's best friends with Courtney. When I mentioned the whole incident to her she was baffled. She did admit that Courtney is rather humorless, like My Deacon Friend, and prone to extreme reactions and poor choices in relationships. In other words, she tends to prefer guys who treat her like shit. So My Deacon Friend is a perfect buddy for her, I suppose. I had on rare occasions offered a select few words of advice to Courtney on some of the failed relationships she had mentioned to me in the past. She wasn't receptive, though, and continues to pick high testosterone boyfriends with low opinions of her who gladly 'do her' until the next hottie comes along, at which point she's dumped.
I'm behind at work. Being sick doesn't help speed things along. Also, being distracted by socializing doesn't help much either. My blog is getting in my way. Its future is uncertain, as is my own. I'm not sure if I can continue or even want to. I'm sure the next four years will provide me with endless entertaining topics to discuss, but I'm not sure that I have the energy. Also, the Democrats, now in complete control of all branches of our government, are moving to pass an old law, already declared Unconstitutional by the Supreme Court, which will make it impossible for anyone in the United States with a non-leftist view to speak or be heard on the airwaves or internet. If they do this, Google will be forced to shut down my blog, as well as most of yours, without giving me a chance to say 'goodbye'. I'd hate for that to happen. But such is the price of change for change's sake sometimes. We'll see how this goes.
Normally I'd be pulling out funky news stories right about now, and commenting on the stupidity of it all. But I just don't feel it. Maybe it's this medicine? Or maybe I'm just tired? Whatever the case, this is all I have to say for awhile.
Not goodbye. Just a good song.
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