(barely) 6 feet under:

on the side of caution, all drunk/broken hearted/venting/vexxing/cheating/lying bloggers hope. hello little way back machine. ugh.

amazingly, so many of you are still here...well, at least that is so many of you are still out here. just half a hour ago jon and i talking about our bewilderment of magazines dedicated to online/interactive games; on how someone can get so immersed into something so seemingly unimportant. there are monthly magazines whose sole premise is birds, model airplanes, and automobiles. i've come to understand o.c.d is the "norm"; but in a society over-saturated with Ritalin, how is that plausible. it's safe to assume, for a self-diagnosis, that i might have a slight, and by slight i mean hopeless and detrimental to the happiness of my future, case of a.d.d. and as someone self-diagnosed with a.d.d i can't imagine ever reaching a point with one of my hobbies in which i assert such energy as to read monthly publications pertaining to it. my attention span begs me to instead: work-out, re-organize my cd collection, scrub the bathtub, read a few chapters in a book i'll never finish, plan the next days itinerary, calculate my monthly projected finances if i were to cease from eating out every single day, watch the news, watch seinfeld, watch trl, hate trl, this, and that. so it's a mystery, but i can't focus long enough on it to figure it out. and for the record, i hope one reading this does not come to ascertain that by coextending my amazement with the longevity of certain blogs to the conversation concerning generation o.a.c.d.a.d that i'm implying such bloggers are as paradoxical or overly fixated on that which is unimportant, because as any good *bleader knows, there is more substance out here than here.