Look, I know I'm supposed to write something new in my blog every day. I realize the only way I'll ever become a good writer is by logging time behind the keyboard. But check it, today was the first day back in the office after the Christmas and New Year's holidays; I worked three days out of the last twelve, so I'm a little out of it, feel me? I'm just not down with spending an hour or two thinking up clever shit, which at this point no one but my wife and I are actually reading anyway.
So fuck it, I'm kicking back to play some Modern Combat 2 on my Xbox and eat a greasy handful of chocolate-chip cookies left over from the weekend. What's that? Yeah, I'm sure there is something more productive I could be doing, but I'm making the call and this is it... that's just how it is. Don't judge me... and you can wipe that condescending look off your face while you're at it.
Maybe when I hang up the gamepad I'll spend a little quality time looking at porn on the Internet. Yeah, that's what I said. Porn. I like it, so what. I think we both know there are worse things I could be doing with my free time. For instance, I could be unspooling dollar bills at the local strip club or I could be driving around the neighborhood looking for a new weed hookup or I could even dealing a little Pai-Gow with the Asians down at the Oakland Card Club. Shit, I'm goddamned husband-of-the-freaking-year by comparison. Whatever.
I don't need your negativity. I'm headed for my "office" right now, which is actually a combination video game lounge and pornography theater with really sweet hardwood flooring and a cool ceiling fan. Don't worry, I'll get back to some quality writing on Tuesday... No, I'm serious. Check out my blog tomorrow, I guarantee some deep, meaningful shit is going down right here. Check it. I'm out.
Geez - don't have to be so defensive about your porn. You're *supposed* to be looking at porn. For boys it's like a multi-vitamin. Not as good as the real thing, but healthier to have it than not. But I would recommend refraining from calling it a "pornography theater." Paul Rubens might start dropping by.
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