The Puck Rule

Thought I might have a quick clarification on the content of this blog. It has been said that I "have a mouth on me." Not like a sailor, but like the guy who makes a remark, then gets swung at. And I'm sorry about that. But not really.

However, if I make come comment you don't like, send me hate mail. Say terrible things about my mother and father, question my heritage and sexual orientation, inform me as to where I’ll be spending my afterlife, or just what particular object I should introduce into one my body’s orifices.

Because I’m sensitive. I’m so very, very sensitive. Most nights I cry myself to sleep on the bathroom floor, curled up in the fetal position and muttering unintelligible movie quotes like “lord make me a bird, so I can fly...,” or “sex panther, sixty percent of the time, it works every time.” So if I discover that I’ve offended anyone in anyway, I might just have the barrel of a 357 magnum for dinner. For the only thing greater than my sensitivity to mean comments, is my lifelong desire to never offend anyone or cause any conflict, ever, ever.

Don't cry for me Blogger, the truth is...