Five years?

August 24, 2016

00-the-fat-cat-10-02-15

An image taken of my recent exploits

Huh. Five years. My last post was over five years ago, and it’s been kind of strange and irksome for me lately going through past posts of mine, written from my younger and way, way, way less editorially experienced hands. And brain—I mean, I hate to throw blame where it isn’t due. I suppose my hands did most of the heavy lifting for Brain, who was the true culprit of those inexperienced-sounding posts (and all the inexperienced-sounding posts to follow from here on out, you lucky bastards). Good lord, I even had to smack some of the most wretched past entries out of the clutches of WordPress because they were either pointless enough or divergent enough from my present life views to be truly offensive to me (and likely to many others, if one can allow that I may have attracted readers with taste better than my own—a thing not terribly difficult to accomplish). So, here we are.

hello friends and enemies

Five years of things happening, and the world goes round. My perspective has changed a lot, as it is wont to do when you’ve traveled the world as much as I have in that time (I haven’t traveled the world). To catch you up (both of you), I had initially taken my blog down because I started work as a counselor and didn’t want the truly weird and tacky things I had written being picked up by clients, undoing all the work we had done in sessions (see previous paragraph for explanation of what could have undone all the work we had done in sessions).

napony

And in the meantime, I finished grad school, married my darling male companion, have covered like a third of my body in brightly colored ink, bought a house, adopted three ungrateful cats, became the aunt of the most adorable baby Gerber never met, co-self-published one book with a talented-as-hell dear friend (and a second book to follow), stopped eating all dairy and egg, switched jobs a few times, stole a sentient mannequin, dug to China, founded a cult, became the Sausage King of Chicago, hijacked a Shriner car, grew hair snakes, and began chasing men around my island with the intent of turning their stupid, lying faces to stone. And then drove tiny, mocking circles in my Shriner car around them, cackling and snacking on sausage. With my mannequin. And a… gong. Surrounded by disciples in robes.* And most of that is true! Pretty sure at least some of it is true.

*My lawyers tell me very little of that is true.

tim curry turn page_usedbl082416

So, I’d like to come back here again and express both sanity and insanity with the Interwebs on a pseudo-regular basis. It helps me clear my own head, and really, I’m pretty sure it’s good for your digestion just to read it.*

parden me while i have a strange interlude

Oh, and I make you this vow, my word being my bond—no more poetry here, at least not when sober. For reasons of my being a total infant about posting ones I’m actually happy with, I seem to historically only post ones I care very little about. I took a few down because they were so awful I considered dousing my eyes with pesticides to banish them from my sight (before remembering I could just delete them), and I left the few less artistically offensive ones up as my own cautionary tale. But! I cannot make the same promise about really horrifying art projects I create. No doubt a few of those will make their way here, and for that I do apologize in advance.

Although not enough to leave them out. Bwahaha.

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