"kan ye" blame me?

Sometimes I fear that this blog will…become yet another item on my list of abandoned half-assed projects left to rest in pieces? Is that what you were thinking I was going to type? Yeah, well, you AND the¼ finished “make your own daffy duck rug” that sits in a closet/basement somewhere in this house. Haha, just kidding. We threw out that box of yarn aaaages ago. Also, fun fact: rugs—even unfinished ones—can’t have thoughts or opinions. (Can they?)

But, no, that’s not what I fear. That’s what I expect. (see March 2010, posts zero-zero) In fact, the thought of that not happening is shocking. Let’s stop thinking about it. Visualizing prolonged productivity wears this lady out.

What I do fear is that this blog will eventually become a collection of artifacts marking my lack of a social life and slightly-more-than-habitual crankiness. Not to mention my comma insecurities and unbridled love of stringing words together with hyphens. (Ah, vices. Cigarettes just seemed a little too cliché and a lot too risky for my asthmatic self. So naturally, I took the next best thing, punctuation marks.) 

But back to the crankiness. On harlanguage (and please get ready for an overstretched “Yanawamsayin? No?” analogy) I feel like I’m Kanye West during the Katrina telethon except there’s no camera cut away and so Mike Myers just has to stand there looking constipated until I decide to stop talking. 

Well, that's the case as far as my point of view goes. I realize most people just navigate to other pages like facebook, or that asian porn website that’s all the rage in my comments section. Seriously, check it out. (That's a link to the comments, not the website. Oh, and to the commenter, while your website isn’t really my bag, I appreciate the warm wishes—thank you, online translator—and reciprocate the sentiment. Thanks for being my most supportive follower!) 

But here, I can be like, “George Bush doesn’t care about black people…and heeerrree’s whhhyyy…” and then I pull out a scroll and start talking about the super dome and end two days later with some tangent about golf. 

...Yanawamsayin? No? 

Well, that’s okay. The important thing is I feel like I’ve atoned (by merely acknowledging my flaws and making no promises to change).

So on that note, I’ma let this finish and start on my next post.