Crackrock of Knowledge
I have been compelled to begin blogging as a result of when I am hopped up on a number of things but most notably sugar or booze, anyone and usually everyone within earshot have uttered the words, "dude, you gotta blog." Sometimes it's a request and other times it's a plea. My main reluctance to do so has been the simple fact that the term "blog" is an utterly bullshit term to the degree that I do not even have a starting point to attempt to explain with some level of authority where it is that the term comes from or what the fuck it means. Of blogging, I am without knowledge and as Emil Faber said, "knowledge is good!"
Secondly, I have very little knowledge of the technical know how needed to set up such a thing as one's own blog. With everything I attempt to do, I try to have a little knowledge going in. There were hard lessons learned by mankind when I did not follow this motto with my endeavors into marriage and parenting. I would have attempted this years ago I think, had I known how to publish and lay out something like the Onion. An interesting point and perhaps one of my encouragements to getting this thing going is that every major legitimate newspaper in America has a poorly laid out web page. Perhaps, the Onion IS America's finest news source!
Over and above my reluctance to begin this fact finding episode in my lifelong quest for knowledge has been the encouragement of many but significantly that of two persons that I hold dear. In the end like so many of my endeavors I hope to achieve an enlightenment that can only be derived from something in it's purest form. Yes, this blog is an attempt by me to find the Crackrock of Knowledge. In the event that this attempt becomes a huge failure of which I cannot fathom how such a thing would be graded, I must now malign through association the respected names of the principal two that have driven me to this point.
The first and most recent is my bro T-Roy. Anyone from down here in Katrinaville knows that the placement of the T in front of someone's name gives them the distinction of either being big, little or the absolute individual One. Not so much the One like Keanu Reeeves, more like the significant article used as it was by the Dude or El Duderino if you can't handle the brevity of it all. In this function, T-Roy is more of The Roy than that of big Roy or lil Roy. T-Roy like the other chief encourager holds an official post in a communist nation and I must note that I do not seek out these heathens of which to associate but I believe that they are a byproduct of my fondness for the three R's, Reduce, Reuse and Recycle as an optimal alternative to landfilling ones backyard full of their waste. T-Roy is a politburo designee of the State of Oregon known for it's liberal bias and selective engineering as well as very respectable recycling recovery rates that I suspect can only be achieved through the elimination of property owner rights and embracing regional communism. I will discuss more about the Oregon poverty pimps and their methods of selective engineering in a later publication. T-Roy guilted me when I was at a moment of weakness and convinced me that my words were "art" in a way that only your diehard pinko can do. It was T-Roy's amazing powers of intuition that knew I had unfinished blog business with the other principal encourager. Yes, folks, mindfucked by a girl yet again! But particularly troublesome is the fact that it was done by a commie chick with a dude's name.
The true principal encourager and whose fault this will be in the event of it's utter failure, I just heard this morning, will likely be named this coming week as High Minister of Socialized Medicine for the Peoples Republic of San Francisco. I claim no responsibilty for association with this individual as he married my sister, an act that was completely out of my control. On a humorous side note however is that my sister while on a search for love in San Francisco, the kind of homogenized love that is never associated with the letters GLBT, she was forced to import herself a straight man from Georgia. A future publication or two may also address this GLBT phenomenon. Particularly the T. I think it was the Marquis de Sade in the 120 Days of Sodom who wrote, Transgendered? That shit sounds scary! So, my brother-in-law, a few Christmas' back, put a $20 bill or two in my stocking for the sole purpose of funding my blog of which at that time I was using the excuse not to do so as the unknown funds that it may require. You see, Guilt, as useless of an emotion that it may be, is my driving force, my lifeforce if you will. I am actually very proficient at feelings of guilt and dare not overlook the coincedence that this may or may not be attributed to myself like most all of my fellow residents of Katrinaville being Catholic. Certainly not Opus Dei Catholic, in fact barely ever see the inside of a church Catholic, but equally fucked up guilt ridden Catholic just the same. I can't fully explain but what I can say is that during lent, which is occuring as I write, my belly wants fried crustaceans. 300+ days a year at any moment, morning, noon or night, I crave the porterhouse but every lent for only God knows why it's, crabs, crabs, crabs, and maybe shrimp, crawfish or flounder but usually crabs. More on the theory of crustaceanism in a later publication.
I now find myself unemployed with nothing but time and an internet connection to deal with, the guilt of knowing Dr. Brother-in-Law's endowment was squandered long ago. Does anyone think if he reads this, he may not realize that the site costs nothing and that I actually get 25 or 30 cents a month, if you click on that banner ad? Don't answer. Don't think. Just click!
Secondly, I have very little knowledge of the technical know how needed to set up such a thing as one's own blog. With everything I attempt to do, I try to have a little knowledge going in. There were hard lessons learned by mankind when I did not follow this motto with my endeavors into marriage and parenting. I would have attempted this years ago I think, had I known how to publish and lay out something like the Onion. An interesting point and perhaps one of my encouragements to getting this thing going is that every major legitimate newspaper in America has a poorly laid out web page. Perhaps, the Onion IS America's finest news source!
Over and above my reluctance to begin this fact finding episode in my lifelong quest for knowledge has been the encouragement of many but significantly that of two persons that I hold dear. In the end like so many of my endeavors I hope to achieve an enlightenment that can only be derived from something in it's purest form. Yes, this blog is an attempt by me to find the Crackrock of Knowledge. In the event that this attempt becomes a huge failure of which I cannot fathom how such a thing would be graded, I must now malign through association the respected names of the principal two that have driven me to this point.
The first and most recent is my bro T-Roy. Anyone from down here in Katrinaville knows that the placement of the T in front of someone's name gives them the distinction of either being big, little or the absolute individual One. Not so much the One like Keanu Reeeves, more like the significant article used as it was by the Dude or El Duderino if you can't handle the brevity of it all. In this function, T-Roy is more of The Roy than that of big Roy or lil Roy. T-Roy like the other chief encourager holds an official post in a communist nation and I must note that I do not seek out these heathens of which to associate but I believe that they are a byproduct of my fondness for the three R's, Reduce, Reuse and Recycle as an optimal alternative to landfilling ones backyard full of their waste. T-Roy is a politburo designee of the State of Oregon known for it's liberal bias and selective engineering as well as very respectable recycling recovery rates that I suspect can only be achieved through the elimination of property owner rights and embracing regional communism. I will discuss more about the Oregon poverty pimps and their methods of selective engineering in a later publication. T-Roy guilted me when I was at a moment of weakness and convinced me that my words were "art" in a way that only your diehard pinko can do. It was T-Roy's amazing powers of intuition that knew I had unfinished blog business with the other principal encourager. Yes, folks, mindfucked by a girl yet again! But particularly troublesome is the fact that it was done by a commie chick with a dude's name.
The true principal encourager and whose fault this will be in the event of it's utter failure, I just heard this morning, will likely be named this coming week as High Minister of Socialized Medicine for the Peoples Republic of San Francisco. I claim no responsibilty for association with this individual as he married my sister, an act that was completely out of my control. On a humorous side note however is that my sister while on a search for love in San Francisco, the kind of homogenized love that is never associated with the letters GLBT, she was forced to import herself a straight man from Georgia. A future publication or two may also address this GLBT phenomenon. Particularly the T. I think it was the Marquis de Sade in the 120 Days of Sodom who wrote, Transgendered? That shit sounds scary! So, my brother-in-law, a few Christmas' back, put a $20 bill or two in my stocking for the sole purpose of funding my blog of which at that time I was using the excuse not to do so as the unknown funds that it may require. You see, Guilt, as useless of an emotion that it may be, is my driving force, my lifeforce if you will. I am actually very proficient at feelings of guilt and dare not overlook the coincedence that this may or may not be attributed to myself like most all of my fellow residents of Katrinaville being Catholic. Certainly not Opus Dei Catholic, in fact barely ever see the inside of a church Catholic, but equally fucked up guilt ridden Catholic just the same. I can't fully explain but what I can say is that during lent, which is occuring as I write, my belly wants fried crustaceans. 300+ days a year at any moment, morning, noon or night, I crave the porterhouse but every lent for only God knows why it's, crabs, crabs, crabs, and maybe shrimp, crawfish or flounder but usually crabs. More on the theory of crustaceanism in a later publication.
I now find myself unemployed with nothing but time and an internet connection to deal with, the guilt of knowing Dr. Brother-in-Law's endowment was squandered long ago. Does anyone think if he reads this, he may not realize that the site costs nothing and that I actually get 25 or 30 cents a month, if you click on that banner ad? Don't answer. Don't think. Just click!
posted by Big Tuna at 5:21 PM
3 Comments:
Hey, Big Tuna- Should I know why you are called that? (Feel free to say no, because it sounds a little bit dirty) Glad to see that you are creating something, keep up the good work! (btw, baby still happy hanging out on the inside)
And another thing... I can't stand blogs/sites that don't update at least semi-frequently! Pouldeau is still stuck in the fall, and you seem to be in a permanent state of welcoming! If I'm checking in, I expect action, mister!
If a man of COLOR(!) had told us to leave, I'da had my bitches load up my 6-4 Impala w/ malt liquor and pigs feet and we'd gone to Houston in style - 20s, spinners, faux leopard skin dash board, ebony midnight window tint, all that shit - that's how the H-Dogg rolls. Now my pimped out ride is a muthafuckin submarine! (It was so new, I didn't have time to insure it yet)
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