Sounds dirty, doesn't it? I am merely talking about doing an internet search for someone. Although if you say this title phrase with a big country swang it sounds just wrong...also if you replace the word google with "emulate" it sounds bad too (but once again, that just means to act like, or imitate)
This past Tuesday marked the anniversary of me being taken out of my Mom's womb. I turned 24. What an exciting age, thus far marked by arthritic joints, a furthered enjoyment of Matlock reruns, and a lust for food that does not require too much chewing.
Early in the day, probably due in large part to no one at work knowing it was my birthday, (and I, of course did not want a pity happy birthday) I felt sort of humdrum about the day, not all excited and upbeat like one might usually feel on their "special day". Even once I went home, I felt tired and not really all that enthused about going out for some casual brews that evening. But, some people came out, and it was actually a pretty fun night. How odd. Of course I had to have a double of Geritol the next morning to make up for it all.
Fellow "bloggart" (it is a new term that will be sweeping the nation used to describe us people who write this crap ((but not the ones who write about how they feel mocked by society and all that garbage))) (and even when I call him a bloggart, I use that term loosely because he really churns out some crap from time to time) Victor P. sometimes writes a somewhat witty "Dear Vic" column, in which he makes up short letters to him from acquaintances and attempts to either wittily respond to them, or to string together coherent statements, sometimes it is tough to tell. So, I was thinking, "Self, you should do that sometime".
Dear Tim,
I sometimes read your blog and weep at its true beauty, eloquent prose, and sheer superiority to anything I have written, (although I was proud of that post it note I left at that girls house one time in the morning "tootles, I think I love you") so just a quick question; what can I do to aspire to be sort of like you?
-Vic
Victor, first of all, don't force out so much drivel. I mean look at this direct excerpt:
"Presently, I continue to be dogged with allegations in regards to the strength of my integrity. Not by enemies, former lovers, or barn animals, but by good friends."
Barn animals can't talk, replace this with Vietnamese massage parlor workers....it flows a lot better. See?
Secondly, if writing a blog every third day is really what you need to offer self-therapy because someone has called out your abilities as a man (whether it be drinking, with the ladies, playing sports, eating something with pepper on it, etc.), go invest in a trapper keeper and some looseleaf and write it down there. That way I don't have to login to myspace, see the "New Blog Subscription Post" message, and then have to read about how Trevor called you out.
HOLLA
Dear Tim,
I am a woman of what I consider to be many talents. I am good at artistic endeavors, good with people, and have even been through all that college mumbo-jumbo. What next?
-Sarah P.
Dear Sarah,
Anything you want is what is next. You definitely should not be waiting on people at a country club where the best tips you get are those regarding ideas for new employ from those you serve. Do it to it. Also, stop obsessing about your path to sainthood. I don't think that time you put air in your bike tire will really be viewed as one of your miracles.
HOLLA
Dear Tim,
As one of your housemates and close friends, I sometimes marvel at the way you can drink so much, touch the ceiling without jumping, throw out witty comments with ease, and yet still manage to have time to be a genuinely cool and good smelling man. Just out of curiosity, what's the secret?
-Paul
Dear Paul,
1)I can drink just as much as you can. Don't be so modest.
2)I am tall and that is what causes me to be able to touch the ceiling. Don't worry, I have yet to turn it into anything other than an ability to reach things high on shelves.
3)The wit might be more forced out of a desire to hear laughter. And like a good psychic, you readily forget the stuff I say that is not funny at all (like with psychics saying a bunch of incorrect crap)
4)I shower regularly and make sure to always wear a dash or two of Polo Black cologne.
HOLLA
Dear Tim,
I often come to you with ideas for sports teams that I think seem realistic, and you continue to guide me in the correct direction. What should I do to fix this? Also, can you avoid using big words in the response, they make my brain itch.
-Mike
Dear Mike,
Do a little research into the subject matter before you come to me with a preposterous idea like: "What the Bulls should really do is build a time machine and pick up that Wilt Chamberlain guy...I heard he was good....or something?" Wilt Chamberlain is dead and John Paxson's time machine building skills are way overrated. That is what I would tell you, or in more verbose form for some brain itching, do not so readily push yourself into a flurry of mental quandaries based solely on the impetus to make a verbalization.
HOLLA
Dear Tim,
Sometimes you offer me advice so logical, it almost does not make sense. And of course, I seldom listen to you. When will I learn?
-Melissa
Dear Melissa,
You won't. That's what makes it so fun to look back in the past and laugh about stuff I have told you. Well, I always get a good laugh out of it at least. I am sure some of the stuff is not really making you have a hearty chuckle.
HOLLA
Dear Tim,
As my only brother, and next closest sibling in age, I sometimes wonder why I too cannot start writing a blog that entertains, informs, and generally improves the general consciousness of society, especially since I am the one with the English degree. Help?
-Eileen
Dear Eileen,
This is just like when we were ages 4 and 5 and sent to the grocery store across the street by our (looking back, seemingly nonchalant and irresponsible) Mom (who sends little kids to the grocery store...I mean, I know there were two of us, but we combined were 9 years old....and I know some 9 year olds who aren't allowed out of the driveway) to buy something which we could never seem to locate. Who always had to ask where it was? Me. And who was always trembling with fear if they had to talk to someone to ask where something was? You. Stop trembling with fear, and start asking where the stuff is.
HOLLA
Dear Tim,
Although I do not ever readily admit this, I think you might be some sort of evolutionary advancement of the human race; while not really good at anything, you are like some sort of otherworldy Renaissance man. Aside from stopping any of the following: pedophilia, beastiality, bulimia, rage, how can I become a better human?
-Trevor
Dear Trevor,
Uhhh....you should probably stop all those. Thanks for the admiring words...I might testify on your behalf in whatever trial is bound to occur? Does that work?
HOLLA
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