Throwing Poo

Ugh.  It’s been four months since my last post.  Four freaking months.  120 days.  A gluttonous pie slice of the year without a single word, misspelled, poorly-chosen or otherwise. 

The last time I was guilty of this level of reckless neglect, the authorities were alerted and a local news van with all the trimmings was parked on my front lawn for two days.  It took me nearly three months to re-grow all the grass they killed with their spinning tires, dumping of old coffee, and, I strongly suspect, public defecation.  And they called me a monster. 

Anyhoo, the point is that I’m no stranger to procrastination, and I’ve got the tower of untouched books, the dusty guitar, and the expanding role of mid-section man-fat to prove it.  Now this blog is beginning to seem like just one more piece of prematurely abandoned clutter in my life, and I fear I am in jeopardy of becoming encased in a cocoon of unfinished business from which I am too old and too tired to punch through.

Of course, this is my earthly alter-ego talking.  Crunchy Blue Commando, the masked avenger, admits no such weakness.  Though frequently misunderstood (such as his costume changes being characterized by the media as excessively public and intentionally prolonged), he is neither whiny, nor late with his mortgage payments, nor occasionally impotent.  Therefore, I believe I will turn this website over to CBC as an exclusive vehicle to document his many wild, adventurous, and arguably exhibitionistic exploits.

Just as soon as I get around to it.