Son, I Loved You At Your Darkest

Life is an impetuous adventure. Sometimes it is a winsome event. Other times, it is filled with nothing but sorrow. I oft find myself walking a fine line between the two. I tend to quote cliches to folk who think my life is a gem. The grass is always greener on the other side, so I say to them. I look at friends who sides are opposite of mine, and tend to think the issues I deal with are less tumultuous than the ones they are dealing with. These past few weeks have taught me a great deal about myself. I wonder if I'll remember the lessons learned. Stick to your guns, so they also say. I'm pretty sure I'm out of ammo at this point. Freeze. Bang, bang. Dead.

"Rejoice"

Wouldn't it be so wonderful if everything were meaningless
But everything is so meaningful
And most everything turns to shit
Rejoice

by Pedro the Lion from the album Control

Spam

I am no fan of spam. Not at all. Neither the supposed meat product nor the kind you get in your inbox. I don't want to be one of these johnny-come-lately bloggers who unleash their thoughts about the trivial, but this concerns all of you, as well as me. Today I was sifting through my spam folder in Gmail when something caught my eye. Sometimes miscellaneous newsletters or emails get stuck there simply because they happen to be in the form of a mass message. Well, one specific message caught my attention. The subject read: "Funky date rape trick." How is that supposed to entice anyone? Is that not an audacious attempt at either humor or shock, but still all mixed in with a dose of trickery? I did not open the email because I thought that we would please the sender too much. Seriously though, and this is really what chaps my hide. Who says funky anymore?