Looking for closure in all the wrong places (or “I’ve been scattered I’ve been shattered. I’ve been knocked out of the race. But I’ll get better.”
Hello, dear SEC readers. This is your lovely host, James Marks, coming to you live from somewhere in the United States.
I never thought I’d write a post like this
but I should have guessed that yeah, Karma is a fucking bitch, and it works both ways. I guess I couldn’t be an asshole to X-Tina, Marge the Babby Factory, and the Ricky Retardo gang
without someone cornholing me nine ways ’till Sunday (or is it “nine days ’till Sunday”? Who the fuck knows. My writing is rusty. Bear with me. I’d post something about Tila Tequila, but last time I did, my display got gonorrheic herpes).
So, what happened, Jimbo? I hear you say. You were living the life, you had a better blog than Nigel Swaby’s. I bet you could have earned 0.05c a day, had you monetized this blog! SEO BABY!
What happened? Life happened, as in shit happened. I’m going to tell you all about it, not because I’m proud about things (I am not), but because I’ve learned that, had I learned early on very stupid and basic things about life and work, I wouldn’t be in the mess I’m in.
At least, I don’t owe 2.5 million dollars.
Writing this will be cathartic. I can’t promise I won’t cry.
You can still laugh at me, though.
February 7, 2017