Where was I? Oh, right, the skin tag. Well, that fucking meat-ball withstood the dental floss noose and, if anything, has grown even stronger and fleshier. I've temporarily given up trying to remove myself from it, basically out of respect. Not only do I think that rubbery nub is sentient, I'm getting the feeling that it's way more intelligent than I am. Another couple of weeks and I'm not going to even be able to rest my arm at my side -- it'll just be perched atop the beanbag chair-sized nevus jutting out of my armpit. Frankly, I'm not that bothered by it anymore. It's kind of like having a new friend... or A friend. It's pretty lonely here toiling away in the basement. Now at least I have a co-worker. (Unfortunately, he smokes.)
So, yeah, I haven't written anything in a while. I think I started feeling like I had nothing left to say. I mean, how many times can you bitch about your kids or their schools or your health or having an itchy asshole... or poop?
Hopefully a lot more, because that's all I fucking know. So, I'm going to try to fire this mofo back up and see what happens. Do people even blog today, though? Is Blogger even a thing anymore? Aren't people now just Tumblring their Pinterest onto their BleepBlorp? I should probably just attend to my neglected Twitter account but encapsulating a thought into two sentences is way the fuck harder for me than blathering on for 10 paragraphs about how long my last shit was (like a fucking didgeridoo...doo).
So, yeah, we'll see if I can tear my skinny ass off the Tee-Vee watchin' couch at the end of the day, stumble back down here to this radon-soaked tomb and shit out some drivel about my meaningless existence.