This blogging thing. I'll guess that most everyone who
participates in "social media"
is prone to a conceit that what they say can actually matter.
Change
things. But, we've reached a point, IMO, where truth is an
ethereal
concept open to individual interpretaion. So we're fucked.
I forget
that sometimes, and get terribly frustrated even though I know
better.
My "About"
page states, simply:
"This
blog is really like a neighborhood bar. That explains
everything.
Sooner or later you'll be happy, pissed off, laughing, and then
disappointed. Drinks are not free. Neither is the Prozac. Also, all
professional democrats are liars. "
Okay then.
A young blonde
woman is
distraught because she fears her husband is having an affair, so she
goes to a gun shop and buys a handgun. The next day she comes home to
find her husband in bed with a beautiful redhead. She grabs the gun and
holds it to her own head. The husband jumps out of bed, begging and
pleading with her not to shoot herself. Hysterically the blonde
responds to the husband, ''Shut up...you're next!''
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