Your cocktail sir,





2005-03-10 - 10:41 p.m.

I was sitting here listening to The Postal Service and wondering why I was so loathe to write the second half of my Weetacon entry. And I came to the conclusion that I wasnít wanting to write it because Iím just damned ashamed of my behavior on Saturday night.

Now, this is not one of those entries where I want/expect the guestbook to fill up with comments saying, NO, WE LOVE YOU and all that. I understand that. Iíve been reading the entries. I understand the love. I really do. Itís just my internal way of thinking/dealing that has me all screwed up about it. Or maybe itís the customers. I have a lot of them. One of the local car rental companies is dumping their crap rentals onto the market at unbelievable prices and so people are buying them up and then bringing them to me in the vain hope that I can turn the new to them Kia theyíve purchased at a deep discount into the car they really want. And I canít. No one can. They should have just bought the Plasma TV because really, giant HDTV will totally get you more cred with the neighbors than a piece of shit Korean car ever will.

Pardon the French.

Since I returned from Wisconsin Iíve had a hard time adjusting. Perhaps itís similar to what soldiers go through. Not that I think Iím shell shocked or anything, just I had my world turned around for a weekend, where the old rules didnít apply and I was suddenly thrust into the limelight, where I felt sexy and cool and amusing and now Iím back to my regularly scheduled programming after getting the superbowl and itsí dissatisfying.

I need to switch to Eminem or something and get off the soap box of self doubt that I find myself on.

Itís the weekend, and while I donít have firm plans, I think that I will be able to decompress a little bit more, get back into a grove that works for me, like Angela Basset only without Whoopie Goldberg. Perhaps thatís my problem. I donít have my very own Whoopie Goldberg. Which perhaps makes for a good Marry, Fuck, or Kill: Whoopie Goldberg, Moínique and Wanda Sykes.

previous - next

Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19

- - 2007-07-11

Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18

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