Throwing Poo

Before your roust one of the Chuck Norris clones from the cryogenic deprivation chamber on back lot of TBS studios (this is where they are kept along with the Suzanne Somers clones in order to be readily available for the latest infomercial or straight-to-DVD project), let me assure you that I am not Missing In Action.  Nor am I Missing In Action II: The Beginning or Braddock: Missing In Action III.  If I were a horribly-written and poorly-acted action movie, then I would be Fair Game, but that’s only because I’d get to bang Cindy Crawford.

Anyway, I’m back now, but can offer no guarantee as too how long it will last.  You see, once again I have become obsessed with trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life.  Like changing my underwear, this is something I do faithfully every three or four months in between bouts of relative contentedness (and rash outbreaks). 

Ben Franklin said that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.  Then again, he was a fat adulterer who fled his debts and once wrote a letter to the Royal Academy of Brussels about farts?  So, in spite of flatulent Ben’s profundity, I’m going to return to writing my weekly column titled, “Now What?” in hopes that it will motivate me to figure my life out. 

The quick back story is that my job is just a paycheck, my 100 year-old house eats all my free time, I’ve self-diagnosed myself with O.C.D., A.D.D. and W.T.F.,  and my cat Max has unrealized superpowers.  Oh, and I don’t have cancer…yet. 

The goal of all this is to find a career, project, or religious cult that provides a higher level of satisfaction than merely capital or the naive notion that I’m making a difference.  I want to be the kind of successful man who, in the words of Bob Dylan, “wakes up in the morning, goes to bed at night, and in between, does what he wants to do.”  It was either that or he was asking someone to get him a cheeseburger.  Bob can be a little difficult to understand sometimes. 

So, starting next week, I will begin posting regular updates on one man’s incredible journey through dark times, where he bravely battles inner demons and the cable company, and miraculously survives to find fame, fortune, and a veritable bevy of hot broads. 

That, or possibly another constipation rant.  Either way, everyone wins.