I keep dropping in on the Casey Anthony trial in Orlando (via the TV, not by driving north for three hours!), and I’m feeling sort of nostalgic for Universal Studios, where she claims she worked but no one can prove it.
Anyway, in comparison to her fucked-up existence, mine seems like a damn dream!
I have the mother of all blog posts brewing in my head. But alas, you’ll hear about it another day, Grasshopper.
Let’s just say that I officially have no proof that anyone has a soul.
It’s like when princes and princesses get divorced. Like, wait a minute — we HAD the fairy-tale ending. What’s THIS shit?
I take back everything I said about the Twunt. God, at least that person emblazons their character on their sleeve. I’d rather be screwed by someone who is CLEARLY INTENT on screwing me than being fucked by a longtime friend. Gimme a chance to lube up, at the very least — no need to make me bleed, too.
Anyway, long story. One in which I am complicit to a degree but I don’t want that to be the long-term situation. I prefer to be “in the know” — and my eyes are WIDE open.
But everyone has a good side — at least, I hope so. And I have a network that’s really going above and beyond to rescue me. It’s basically my opportunity to lose.
And while I’ll still be OK if I do lose it, or if it turns out to be not “just right,” I would like that to be MY decision … not anyone else’s.
The one thing I can leave you with is this: Be careful what you wish for. Because when you’re down to nothing, God is definitely up to something. And I think He likes to give us what we want, just to fuck with us. 🙂