Monday, April 09, 2007
Why am I not blogging?
Then again, why am I not working? I should be working, as I have a bunch more headlines to write for this actually-cool campaign we’re working on.
Let’s ask a bunch of “why” questions. Why? Because I said so. (And that answer trumps ALL.)
Why don’t Dallasites/Texans use turn signals? I heard but cannot confirm that they don’t actually mention using them in the driver’s manual. Somebody (not my lazy self) should investigate.
Why do spammers insist on flooding my e-mailbox? Are there that many people out there who are: a) smart enough to have/use a computer; and b) dumb enough to fall for the deposed-African-politician (or his wife) who needs to hide his (her) money in their bank account? Or are there that many people who need a bigger male member or more hair or cheap drugs? Apparently, yes.
Why can’t I commit to/get motivated to sit and actually write something that will make me money (besides my actual work)?
Why is it impossible to have a third (or fourth or fifth) political party legitimate enough to run a real candidate for our nation’s highest office?
Why do some people still insist on wearing their baseball caps backward? (And why did I feel compelled to consult a dictionary just now to find out if it was “backward” or “backwards”?)
Why can’t we all just get along?
Why ask why? Drink Bud Dry.
Why am I still doing this, when there are headlines to write? (Because you’re a procrastinating dork.) Thank you, Voice in my Head.
Why do we never realize how good we have it when we have it good? Do you remember being four? Is that the best age? You’re not in school, you’re master of the toilet by now (or ought to be), you can read some, and you have absolutely no responsibilities–except, well, making it to the bathroom on time. You can probably get away with going shoeless and forgetting to make your bed. And your health, if all is well, will never be better. I think I’ve answered my own question. Good for me.
Why are you still reading this stream-of-consciousness nonsense? Am I actually funny or thought-provoking once in a while?
OK, I’m done. For now. But I think the minute we stop asking questions is the minute we start accepting the B.S. answers that “they” want you to believe.
Now I sound like a conspiracy guy. (Shout out to my boy Matthew.)