toby keith urban legends

it's 2:30 in the morning, and i'm "working." i put that word in quotes because i've been here for two hours, and i haven't done a lick of work. i'm all alone in my cubicle, all alone in the office. out of sheer boredom and laziness, i figured i should start a new blog. my last blog, the summer of sabbath, failed miserably. actually, i was just too embarrassed to update it after my last entry, since the girlfriend i had so affectionately discussed in less than two sentences dumped me shortly after i clicked the orange "publish post" button at the bottom of the screen. these things happen. it also happens that the girlfriend-no-longer still pokes me in the eye with needles at every opportunity (for those who might think i'm a masochist, the previous sentence is to be taken metaphorically, duh). i'm not sure she means to do this, but it happens anyways. i generally do what i can to avoid her, but encounters are inevitable, as we share the same group of friends. actually, i quit hanging out with my friends so that i wouldn't have to be around her. am i a pussy or what?

in any case, i've fallen in lust with girl x, so why should i care? not that i have a chance with girl x, but man, she's hot. sexy. she knows it, and she uses it to her advantage. flamboyant-yet-naturally-colored hair, eyes ablaze with intent to which most discerning folks would hesitate to attach the word "good," and a vagina that i'm sure features little more than a landing strip for the smallest of passenger planes. her face is approximately three inches from mine when we converse. she knows. the sad fact about this situation is that it's not about confidence or intelligence or good looks. i possess all of those--in varying quantities, of course. i just don't have a chance with girl x, and that's all i'm gonna say about it.

i'm not sure if anybody reads blogs like these. i didn't go to school for creative writing like some of my friends did, but maybe i have what it takes to capture one's attention, to gain regular readers. i certainly have a catchy name for my blog. black magic carpetbagger. i live and die by the before and after: toby keith urban legends, big game cock block party of five, beer-battered women's shelter...yeah, i could go on. do people like cleverness? i do. would i read this blog? probably, but then i might say, "oh dear, what a mess." or maybe i wouldn't. maybe instead it would be more along the lines of "HELL YEAH HOLY SHIT THIS GUY IS MORE INTRIGUING THAN BUKOWSKI." god, i really write like bukowski, except that he was a badass, what with his eight thousand women and eight thousand whiskeys and coke and eight thousand dollars debt at the horse racing track and my eight thousand reasons as to why bukowski was a badass. i have zero women, but my fridge is full of beer, and i have an unopened bottle of evan williams at my disposal. maybe i'll get drunk. in any case, i was originally discussing my audience before i went all finnegan's wake...maybe i'll upload hot freak folk or sludge metal albums and people will find my blog that way. worth a shot, i suppose.

my conscience is telling me that i should start working. but where did listening to my conscience ever get me? or, for that matter, what did it get me? you cannot win in this type a world as a conscientious human being (in layman's terms: a passive nice guy), which should be dictionary.com's second or third entry for the guy with the halo who sits on your right shoulder and bickers with the guy with the pitchfork-shaped guitar churning out soul-crushing stoner riffs on your left shoulder. but tonight, i will listen to the good guy and i won't have sex until marriage and i won't drink until i'm 21 and i won't drive faster than the speed limit and i won't do drugs and i won't lust after lustworthy figures of femininity and i will read my daily scripture and all the other things the good guy tells you to do that i would probably hear and remember if i actually took the time to listen to him instead of trying to one-up mr. mephisto on my left shoulder in the guitar-off at the end of the world. good guy, you win. this time. but beware...