Checking In

Helloooo, interweb! I have missed you. And you? Indifferent?

It has been... ages since my last post. Not that I didn't try, I just have sweet fuck-all to type about. Seriously. Mo suggested I refer to the argument I attempted to start earlier today but I indicated I am far too retiring a personality to air my psychic laundry on the web. Really.

In any event the post would really be just a title. Something like "Working the Same Argument Since 1990", or "Still Crazed: The Return of the Shithouse Rat." The inside of my head is no place to be after dark which is to say whenever my eyes are closed. I haven't blinked voluntarily this decade!

So, I am still looking for a topic. Um, I have been to paradise, but I've never been to meme? How about a movie review? Books? House plants? TV? Plot synopses for the first season of Angel? "Fuck me!" he types, no longer able to avoid the third person, "this is a crisis!"

Ok, so I have started to ride my bike to work.* It has been a long, very long, time since I was a dedicated bike rider and I have the physique to back up that statement. I am a bowlegged pear.

This decision was made, in part, as my reaction to fuel prices, global warming, the imminent collapse of the global economy, sea lice, and more importantly, my impending birthday. I will be 40. While this birthday is no different than any other, apparently I will be "middle aged" when I am 40. I will start to "slow down" and my girlish figure will "soften." I may start to look at hairplugs, or taking the medicine designed for chemo patients to stimulate hair growth, to prop up my pathetic sense of worth. Maybe I will buy a car with "turbo" in the title. By "buy" of course I mean "lease." Maybe I will look for a nice stewardess on Craigslist. More tattoos? Can a Harley be close behind? I can ride it to Starbucks and join the Latte Angels. Yeah! Where was I?

Oh yes, on my bike, slowly heading east on 45th Avenue towards Central Park and wondering if I would make it to New West on time. I was contemplating the exquisite (which means: very noticeable, as opposed to: it hurt so bad I made wood) pain in my saddle area caused by my sudden and unexpected return to exercise via bicycle. I was feeling good about my decision, enjoying the spring air, the cycle route, the new ride, the numbness in my cock. The numbness... I can't feel my cock! (Obviously, I can. I have hands. There were too many witnesses, is all.) Ahhhh, spring.

Bring on the stewardesses. With turbo.

Numbly,

p-man


* Translation: I purchased a bicycle and rode it to work on MOnday. I will do so again tomorrow and possibly THREE MORE TIMES before retirement. Proof that I love the earth.