it’s weird being the old guy in the office
it’s weird being in an office
it’s weird being at the oscars
it’s weird still blogging
it’s weird how wifi works
it’s weird that this can instantly be published around the world
it’s weird to think that some people, who could feed the whole country, don’t.
it’s weird to think
it’s weird how much my new tire costs
it’s weird what kind of car i drive
maybe we shouldn’t even day dream when we’re young
because if you’re doing it right,
nothing ever turns out the way you thought it would.
not with ropes or chains
or high heeled ladies in catsuits
and LED lit ears
spiked boots and gloomy music
in a dungeon
far below the earths surface
as they insult me with lies and fantasys
where i did this or that
and now i must be punished
starting with this
and then that.
sooooo much of this, by the way. so much. omg. like woah.
and then i have to clean up.
you can always tell how easy a man has it by how soft his hands are.
how few calluses, scratches, divots, tears.
the affluent have scars, just not on their hands.
but i dont torture myself that way either.
i listen to news stations and political shows all day
and all night.
waiting for something juicy to come from the droning and speculation
but it rarely does.
still, i wait.