It has been close to six months since my last post. In fact, the last time I posted was the last time I vomited after watching re-runs of "The View." Now, the whole world has changed. I would like some credit for not going after Tom Brady, yet. I want some credit that I have kept Dippy on a leash. Wait a minute, Dippy has been out of control in rural Virginia. The magical book that I have conceptualized in my head in the same way that Lindsey Lohan conceptualizes being sober is lost in my head. It has been crowded out by all the junk of every day life. So, to answer your question, the book has not even started. Not one word. So far, it's a book with a soundtrack and chapters without a single word. This is a metaphor for my life in the last six months. Every time I feel like things seem to be settling into a boring normalcy things begin to change drastically and I react to it like a gerbil reacts to flashing lights.
It has been my goal over the last six months to at least communicate with the world via using the popular social media of our time. Namely, Facebook and Twitter. I have used them as vehicles exclusively to send out bitterness and venom to the world. I initially intended on pushing the envelope as far as it could go. Instead, I have more than likely torn the envelope into pieces and fed them to my shark. Yes, the shark that I keep in my swimming pool out back. The shark is really hungry and feeding him pieces of paper really isn't enough. The SPCA visited recently because there were calls from the neighbors that I had not fed him enough. So as a result, I feed the shark copies of Nabokov novels and road kill, both of which are of equal value in today's world.
Recently, I have had many complaints about my use of language. I am from the George Carlin school of writing and expression. I like using the seven words that apparently can't be said on TV. But, they can be said on HBO which is really not TV. I'm so confused. Nonetheless, Dippy and I talk about how we should express ourselves. Our dilemma stems from the fact that Facebook and Twitter are two different forums. Facebook posts can only be read by people whom are our "friends." Actually, this is not exactly true. It's easy to hack into Facebook. However, I am getting distracted. Facebook readers of my posts are a select group. A small audience. An exclusive audience of those who have been invited or whom I have accepted their invitations. For the most part, they have read or ignored my penchant for destroying the envelope. Most understand the joke. They understand that I am often not serious. Some do not. They take what I say literally. They take what I say in the same way that a dog has sex with a piano leg. Let me be frank. Most of my posts are intended for humor and some shock value. Dippy is my alter ego. Dippy "says" and "does" things that people mostly just think about. Not just what I think about, but it does come from my head.
Then there is Twitter. I have been kicked off Twitter at least twice for alleged spamming. I plead the fifth on that. Like OJ, I am out to find the real killer. The real spam artist. Wait, OJ is in prison having sex with with the wrong end of a shampoo bottle. OK. Wrong example. Twitter is awesome because the posts go out everywhere. Anyone can read them and respond. Anyone. That has been the most fun. However, Twitter inexplicably is limited to 120 characters a shot. Now, that's just f---ked. I can understand if posts were limited to 160 characters like text messages. But, 120. Why? I have never gotten a real answer to that question and no one at Twitter will ever talk to me. They just send me strange vague messages that need to be interpreted by someone at the United Nations. So they are absolutely no help. So I struggle to be smart in 120 characters. Facebook allows well over 400. Needless to say, I need more than 1,200 characters to be smarter than Meg Whitman or any of the Tea Party candidates. With 120, it's a puzzle. It's a challenge. However, I get it done at the cost of the poor Facebook readers that have to read only 120 characters. Sorry, I just don't have time to put out two different posts and send love letters to Sarah Palin and Gisele. However, I love Twitter because anyone can read it and respond. It was very helpful on my trip to Gettysburg, PA and someone responded to my interest in Ed's Elephant Museum and Candy Shop, which, by the way, is incredibly creepy especially when you look at the billboards on US 30 and the fact that it burned down a few months ago. I was bitterly disappointed that I could not go to the museum and then call the people at the show "Criminal Minds." So Twitter is wonderful because someone in Gettysburg gave me the 411 or the 911 or whatever about Ed. Though I am still convinced that he is in prison or on the run. So there you have it, Twitter and Facebook.
I offer no apologies for what I have written in the last six months (or not written). I have apologized for my other actions in the last three years. I have few regrets for what has happened. Mainly because it's these actions and their consequences that have led me to where I am now. However, people have been hurt by some of my actions. That is what I am sorry for. It has never been my intention to hurt anyone in any way, but life has a rule: When emotions are involved, people will get hurt. That is what has happened and I offer my apologies to those who have been hurt in the process. My writing is now a reflection of the last six months, the last three years. Because of it I will continue to deal with the envelope in what I write. It may be brutal. It may not be pleasant. It is real and it is raw. That is what life IS. On this blog and on Twitter and Facebook I will focus the spot light in a satirical way on life and love as catharsis. Why? Because do you really want me to actually act like Dippy? No. Probably not.
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