I'm Totally Not Dead

I like to write funny things that make people laugh. And I'd be remiss if I didn't admit that I like to write funny things that people read and say, "Hey, that's a funny thing."

But I hate having a fucking blog, because it smacks of coffeeshops and goatees and effort. The vast majority of blogs, including yours, are stupid and boring. I spend all day on the internet, and I read exactly four blogs. Two are about the Washington Wizards, and the other two are about the housing bubble (I'm not kidding). I don't read any other blogs like mine because, well, they're dumb.

Still though, it is nice to have a place to whine and bitch and rant about things from time to time. Although I do worry that I sound like all I ever do is whine and bitch and rant. I worry about that because that is in fact all I ever do, as every woman I have ever dated can attest.

This blog also doubles as an update on my life for people I know. That's both good and bad. It's nice because we don't have to email each other, but it's not nice because I can't say anything bad about any of those people here. By now, friends, family and co-workers are all aware of this blog. That greatly cuts down on the number of things I can really talk about. It's no fun when you think of something to write but immediately take it down because it might offend someone.

I know I should make an effort to write more, because I find that posts tend to come in bunches and sometimes all I need is that subtle kick in the ass to get started up again. So maybe this will be that motivation. Or maybe I won't write again for six months. You really never can tell.

Here's a quick update though-

I'm not dead. Osama bin Megan has a blog that she hasn't updated since like September. That makes me a bit nervous. I emailed her and she didn't respond. She very well could be dead. One time after one of our many breakups there was an obituary with her exact same name in the Post. I felt terrible. A word of advice: if you ask God to kill someone, be very fucking specific.

Our wedding planning is all but complete. Baby is a marvel. She has everything on complete autopilot. All I have to do is not say or do anything really stupid between now and October and I'm almost guaranteed to actually get married this time.

I never went anywhere for like 30 years, and now it seems like I'm never home. We were in Vegas last month, we're off to New Orleans next month, then LA the month after. Then California again for the honeymoon. I don't even know who I am anymore.

I hardly gambled at all in Vegas, and felt bad about it. So on the morning we left, I sat down to play blackjack. I lost nearly $300 before 9am. I'm kind of a big deal.

We got a new apartment, featuring such upgrades as windows, greater distance from housing projects, and no dead rats in the walls. It's also not underwater. And only $2,300 a month for 900 square feet!

Dude, look at my nephew.



How great is that? Want more?



I think that's about all. How can I top that?