October 13, 2013: A strange suspicious email from some "feed" people is prompting me to compose an impromptu Blah-ugh! These people are claiming they have Followers of mine, which is both baffling and arousing. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do in response, but I thought if it was really true and I actually do have new Followers (and not just the same 23 I've had for four years), they deserved some new fodder from this virtual crap factory we call the Blah-ugh! If any of them are reading this, I urge you to contact the authorities right away, or just send me an email in 100 words of less explaining why I'm your God! (firstname.lastname@example.org)
There's so much to talk about. So much to malk about, and yet my ongoing midland blases--a poor, pathetic perpetual indifference to all things--keeps me short on enthusiasm for anything relating to reality. That said, let me tell you about some of the better movies I've watched lately -- "Oblivion," "Star Trek - Into Darkness," and of course "Ed Wood."
Alright, enough about those. Let me tell you about the X Factor. It's this interesting show involving Simon Cowell and shameless people from the heartland who have dreams of glory and songs in their hearts and spleens. I'm enjoying it so much, I'm even able to tolerate watching all these modern hand-gesture performances from people with sideways baseball caps and finger-pointing theatrics. Just grand stuff. Though I find Demi and PooPoo, or whatever her name is, especially vomitous, I'm quite taken with Kelly's level-headed insight, though if she says "Y'All" one more time, I'm going to defecate on my keyboard.
Another thing that's keeping me going these days is pumpkin pie, which as you know is my favorite--ice cold with lots of artificial whipped cream. I find myself sitting naked on the kitchen floor at odd hours eating it with my fingers, listening to Wolf Man movies in the next room. This is living! (At least, this is my life!)
Speaking of living, it was dead last night at my performance, and I'm wondering why none of my so-called Followers ever take the time to come hear me sing. In truth, I can sing circles around some of those X Factor people and have even begun giving some serious thought to entering the competition, once I perfect my ability to cry with efficacious fervency. And despite my awful sick sore throat, and perpetual despondency, I was quite good last night, even after I dropped my pick in my tea. I'll be playing next month, so the hope is that my readership will organize a fitting field trip to support their leader in the heartland of Connecticut.
Speaking of television, I've also been reading a lot, which is good, except some people poo-poo Dilbert books as literate fare. I disagree. I'm also discovering renewed joy in my H.G. Wells, Charles Dickens and a wonderful how-to book on witchcraft, which is very informative and may be the find of the year in the library's discard bin.
So, nothing else new to report. People still seem on the verge of killing me every time I drive down the road, owing to their text messaging, my weight has been staying relatively low, though the pumpkin pie binges promise to change all that, my ears are hairier than ever, my feet hurt constantly, but I'm glad to report my fingernails don't seem to be growing as quickly as they have in the past.
Halloween is coming, by the way, and this is good, except for the goblins and toilet paper.
In closing, with regarding to my potentially faux followers, and in the spirit of the holiday at hand, I can only think to paraphrase Linus Van Pelt in his letter to the Great Pumpkin, "P.S. -- If you don't exist, please don't tell me. I don't want to know!"