I never expected to live long enough to reach 100,000 reads on my blog, instead certain it was destined to oblivion long before my own demise, of which I would have wagered to have arrived sooner than this late date. As it appears, we are both alive and full of bullshit, an accomplishment on both accounts of which I am proud, prouder for the continuation of my writing than the continuation of my life mainly because writing has to a great extent prolonged the other if for no other reason than the bullshit from each has created a pendulum of perpetuity. A reason to live is far more powerful than the mere desire. I might add that contained within my posts are the myriad depositions and admissions of countless roadblocks to upending my pendulum. Family, friends and loyal readers hold the key to my ability to circumvent the laws of thermal dynamics and stay alive forever in this world.
After living three years with the knowledge that I had ALS, I've come to several conclusions, not the least of which is that the biggest killer of health is none other than the design of the diagnosis.
I'm guilty of plunder. I am. I plunder the riches of language and ravage them like inquisitional Wiccan virgins, leaving them splayed, ruined upon flea market tables of chop suey sentence structure, left to fester themselves with nary regret upon the unsuspecting throngs of word hoarders, filling their pockmarked flesh pockets with sentence bile and punctuation leprosy. It's what I do.
After living three years with the knowledge that I had ALS, I've come to several conclusions, not the least of which is that the biggest killer of health is none other than the design of the diagnosis.
I'm guilty of plunder. I am. I plunder the riches of language and ravage them like inquisitional Wiccan virgins, leaving them splayed, ruined upon flea market tables of chop suey sentence structure, left to fester themselves with nary regret upon the unsuspecting throngs of word hoarders, filling their pockmarked flesh pockets with sentence bile and punctuation leprosy. It's what I do.
I would love to comment but....what do I say to that? I guess, congrats on almost 100,000 reads and for being alive still and keep vomiting your thoughts on this junk yard of devoted visual word addicts.
ReplyDeleteOk....For the first part....Yaaaayyyy for you! With 100,000 reads does that get you some kind of syndication like, "Best of Boettcher" or "Tracy knows Best"? haha For the last paragraph it left the vision in my head of pockmarked inquisitional Wicca virgins splayed out on ruined tables eating chop suey at a flea market. Maybe I got that part wrong. haha Miss you Tracy!
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