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    I think I want a blog

    A friend said that to me a year ago today. Blog... blog... the term seemed vaguely familiar. Where had I heard it before? Weren't "blogs" those Dutch wooden shoes? No wait, "Blög" was the name of that entertainment center that I saw in the IKEA catalog last week, right?  She laughed.  When she told me what a blog REALLY was, and that she wanted me to do one also, it was my turn to laugh.

    I told her, a very talented (and published) freelance writer, that there was a reason I took engineering in college, and it wasn't to meet girls (never had a single one in any of my classes): I hated, scratch that, I downright loathed  English, and the major only required three basic composition courses.  They were the only C's I got in five years.  Writing just wasn't my thing. 

    In the end, obviously, I humored her and opened this site.  I posted the only thing I had ever written, a few pictures and a couple dorky lists, thinking that's all this would ever be.  53 entries, three trips to the MSN homepage, 15 minutes of fame, a contract with a literary agent, and and over 900,000 hits later... here I stand (well, figuratively).  It should also be ironically noted that said friend pretty much lost interest within a week, and has only posted three things ever!  And while the list I just mentioned seems pretty amazing, they're ultimately just things.  There's one thing this goofy site has brought me that's value could never be measured.  This "community" we've built.

    Call it fate/God's plan/whatever... it's crazy to think about what has happened since my site was featured on MSN.com that fateful day last summer.  What started out with a bunch of complete strangers leaving comments of support, has developed into this close-knit community of friends who care and look out for one another like family.  Personally, there are SO many people out there who I haven't actually met or spoken to in person that I hold very close to my heart... i.e. Jennifer, Keith, Marisa, Cori, Pilgrim Steve,Vanita (get well soon, girl), and Paul's mom, just to name a few.

    But I must say, it's a little overwhelming to see how I was used as an instrument in all of this.  I was going back through my comments not too long ago, and it's crazy to see how many people decided to tell their incredible stories after seeing mine, and how each one of them has gone on to make such big impacts on people's lives they otherwise would have never known.  It's humbling to think about.

    My link on MSN.com that morning said "quadriplegic seeks purpose."  I'm starting to realize that that one link alone just might be a big part of it.  What a difference a year makes, yeah?

    Somewhat perturbed

    I'm extremely bored and slightly annoyed at the moment.  Maybe it's the fact that I'm completely over-thinking my writing lately, and it would be easier for me to do a back flip than get out a complete thought these days, I don't know.  I find myself wondering if the true reason I'm so frustrated is the realization I made a couple days ago that I will never be on Last Comic Standing... think about it... wait for it... yeah.  Sucks for me. Whatever the hell my problem is, it needs to go away.  Pronto.  I need to do something. 

    A few ideas have crossed my mind that may need further investigation.  After someone pointed out www.dooce.com, and the fact that this broad FULLY supports her family just with the money from advertising on her blog, I have decided it's something I should look into.  I mean, shit, The Man (MSN) is making money off my writing... why can't I?  Of course, this will require my becoming edumakated in the cyber kung fu that is and to web design, but that shouldn't be too difficult... I'm spry, or least I used to be.  And, you know I will have TONS of advertisers just kicking the door down from the get-go.  Seriously, can you think of a better place for The Gap to market Crippled Khaki???  I didn't think so.

    My good buddy Web offered up another decent suggestion when he and his wonderful fiancé were visiting last night: the stock market. Not really sure why that monster has always scared me so much... it's just calculated gambling, right?  I never seemed to have much of a problem blowing $80 at the local casino's blackjack tables, why not try my hand at this? It has to be at least SOMEWHAT safer, yeah?  Who knows, if I play my cards right, I might just make enough to be able to fund my long-awaited TV show, Queer Eye for The Crippled Guy, thus completing my plan of interstellar domination.

    At the moment though, I've been keeping myself thoroughly entertained with some moviemaking software I've found.  The past few days, I have been transferring my old 8mm wrestling videos onto my hard drive, and toying with putting them all together in some sort of a DVD.  Is it just me, or did Bruce Springsteen's "Glory Days" just start playing in the background?  Word, Boss, word. 

    And look at that... a few complete thoughts.  Crappy thoughts, but thoughts nonetheless.  Hooray for me.

    A kind request

    Just a quick note to anyone that is planning to visit me anytime soon.  Could you do me a favor next time you're here?  Pet my damn dog, would ya?  I mean, seriously... she's almost 17 years old, completely deaf and pretty much blind.  What's worse, she's riddled with arthritis, and my parents decided to put hardwood floors throughout the entire house this last summer.  It's bad enough that she barely has enough strength to get up on carpet, now every time she wants a drink of water, it's a friggin reproduction of Bambi on Ice.  And then to top it all off, her best friend doesn't so much as lift a finger when she walks in the room anymore! That's gotta be confusing as all hell, don't you think?  I wonder what goes through her head. 

    "I spend my whole life being the sweetest dog on the planet, sitting, staying, fetching, etc.... and this is how these bastards repay me?  The guy that used to play with me all the time, just sits around in that rolling chair all day, and they turned the downstairs into a god damn slip and slide!  Sure doesn't make it any easier to get away from those littler weasels that always chase me around and pull my tail.  Oh well, at least they tend to drop food every now and then."  So yeah, next time you come by, show Tess some love, okay?  Good talk.