On Track
The other day when I said I only got Return of the King and 15-20 extra pounds of Me for Christmas, that wasn't quite 100% inclusive.

I forgot to mention my $50 Best Buy gift card. How I forgot to mention it, I'll never know. And as this blog is the official detailed record of my life in which not only is everything I say here completely and unassailably true, but I think the case can be increasingly made that if an event is not blogged, it can be said not to have occurred at all.

The explanation is a complicated intermix of quantum physics, temporal mechanics, basic metaphysical existentialism and bullshit, none of which I have time to get in to right now. My wife's out at the Old Navy spending her gift card and flirting with teenage sales guys with washboard abs and I need to get this done before she gets back and asks me to do something. If I'm lucky she'll get to second base with one of the Not-Quite-Abercrombie-Material bo-hunks and buy me a little more time. But assuming she doesn't, I'm going to have to hurry this along.

So I've mentioned my Best Buy card and therefore now it actually exists. Existed I guess as it's been spent. Well, I suppose it physically still exists in the wastebin liner of the Best Buy in Corona, but bereft of its redeemable value it has been rendered inert, value-less, forgotten, like Kajagoogoo.

I really shouldn't blog right after reading.

At any rate, I'm feeling pretty good. I've made some small but significant steps toward my ultimate dream of Failed Writerhood. It happens every year at my birthday and at Christmas. Just when I'm tiring of whatever it is that is keeping me from getting any actual work done, an event rolls around (my birthday is roughly half a year away from Christmas) that involves people handing me Best Buy gift cards.

The inevitable result is that I will find something in the Best Buy (is it possible not to?) to amuse myself, to draw my attention away from what I should be doing if I were on the Successful Writer track and instead spend my evenings all alone, after the wife and kids have gone to bed, scoring virtual touchdowns, piloting aircraft or slaughtering bloodthirsty aliens bent on the destruction of mankind with only me and my trusty array of plasma-spewing energy weapons to stop them.

I decided this year I would buy CDs so as to a) keep culturally current and b) discourage the purchase of a shiny new $50 game. Want to know what's funny? If you buy slightly older games, you can get them for like $20! And still buy three CDs for just over $50!

So for the next few months I'll be one of the Knights of the Old Republic saving the Star Wars universe (circa 2003) from the evil Darth Malak and his Sith cohorts.

I may never write again. Except here, but that hardly counts.



This post on the Narcissus Scale: 9.7


Pops

- posted by Pops @ 11:28 AM