Disclaimers (The OTHER Human Invention)

I am a deeply superficial person.

Andy Warhol


And so this is the part where I have to explain myself ("Why two blogs?! You mean one wasn't enough!?" Simmer down, Fido. You're frothing at the mouth). I needed another one because my other side wanted one ( Him, my imaginary midget friends, and my other personality called Santa Lucia.). Kidding ( I think). I guess I didn't want to dilute the other blog's aura (The thought which I tend to entertain every now and then). The Devil's Little Helper blog's for my dark musings (also known as pretentious literary trash) and this one's for my evil one (Sorry Mom. You tried to raise me well but failed. Don't worry though. It's not your fault. The credit's all mine.). No good side though so there goes me having a Dear Abbie section here (But who's to say she had noble intentions... all those royalties coming in I'm sure kept encouraging her "positively"...). Plus, I get to keep a diary (Which I've always secretly wanted but couldn't go through due to the Herculean effort of having to use a pencil for a straight five minutes-- Poor me. I just tire so easily.). I guess this would be the cesspool with which I can keep dumping the dregs my mental crane too often brings up from the deep end of my cranial cavity. A near accepted manner of pissing and moaning about everything has got to be this generation's highlight. Talk about milestones, eh? Who cares about penicillin? I got me a blog and a shady understanding of Free Speech and Democracy. Talk about Weapons of War.

So now, where was I again? Oh yes. My disclaimer. I call this The Reluctant Blog ("Ta-daa...") because I wanted to poke fun at my supposed hesitation in setting (even) one up. I wanted to play coy, you see, and what better way than to pooh-pooh all the nice things a blog could do for my mental instability (I'm serious... ). It's great therapy I hear. And with that clause in hand, I'm sure people will pardon the things I keep saying (Oh Happy Day. The fun just never stops, does it?). Morals, I'm sure, were invented by the Evil People to trick the weak ones into thinking it will play into their favor. Funny why it has so many loopholes but, hey, whatever floats your boat (By the way, I think it's sprung another leak...).


Ho well. There's always the next evolution (Unless God's sprung on us this horrible joke. Now that's NOT funny. Ha ha ha.).

Cyanide and the Occasional Noose

So here I am starting yet ANOTHER blog just when the blog fever's died down and everybody who used to think it was so cool, now think it's just something geeks and losers do (sorry guys if I lumped you in just one category... convenience plus I couldn't be bothered, really). From thinking that it was a too-cool way where you could prove you could write a more-than-two-cents-worth jumble of letters and words to simply going: "Huh?!" ...Jeezus. What a lovely world we live in. I gotta remember to send a postcard to these guys one of these days. That or a letter-bomb (sweet memories-- back then, Al-Qaeda wasn't so popular and we only had the Unabomber to worry about. Ho well. We're always on the lookout for the next big thing, eh?).

So, moving on, I think I was prattling about what pains I took in trying to set up another blog (if I didn't then I'm telling you now-- ) but I'm actually looking forward to seeing this one up (which would then explain the pains-- in retrospect I would probably gleefully gloat over a friend of mine that he may be able to write 2 cents but I'm worth a whole dollar... ahhh, don't you just love destroying other people's self-esteem? It makes my piddly one look so much bigger). Had another but it's just one to keep my pseudo-weighty thoughts in it (but that's another thing to talk about altogether... I've digressed too much already *got a clue finally*).

Where was I? Oh yeah, I was about to launch into my "theme" (if this puzzles you, please refer to the title above). I'm not really partial to cyanide (for fishing I prefer dynamite... all those pretty pretty yet useless fish parts floating around-- I'll bet THEY didn't know what hit them) BUT the noose does have its charm (very "old school"). Suicide is always a fantastic way to a quick NOTICE-ME sign over your head. Of course, if you ARE successful, it'd be your last but, hey, you'll always be fondly remembered (so for those planning a quick get-away into Mother Earth, lead a do-goody, non-supposing life so people won't feel too put-out in trying to remember you nicely). But if you fail, take heed. For each attempt lessens the novelty it inspires so please use this platform sparingly. A dash every mid-life crisis or so I think would be enough to spice anyone's personal history. By this I'm assuming you live with real AND sentient individuals and not in the company of volleyballs but AGAIN that's another story. Besides, suicide always looks cute on paper... It's the resulting remains that's always questionable. So if in doubt, practice on someone else. Remember, cyanide is "pretty" untraceable. But if you're really planning on not getting caught, I have a few poisons I could recommend. I like the drama (what with all the retching and face-twisting) better than a peaceful demise. So please-- remember to invite me along.

I always did love a good show.