Hell comes to Suburbia

Ahhh, Internet.  I see you there.  See you there seeing me.  What with your creepy, soulless eyes and your CCTV cameras.  Yeah, I see you.  Anyway, Internet, if you and your denizens are anything like the rest of the universe, you will have in no way, shape or form have noticed my absence over the course of the last few weeks.  Had you noticed, I'm sure that your life will have been made better for the lack of listening to my words as they radiate from my keyboard and out into the vast, unknowable AetherSpace in which you find yourself entangled.

That all said, I apologize.  Not for being away, because quite frankly, you were all happier to see me be gone than any of us are comfortable mentioning in polite company.

Or, realistically, any company

I apologize for being back.  But now that we've made our peace with the fact of my continued, fetid existence let's just all put our heads down and power through, shall we?  There are a few reasons why I haven't been around.  One horrible, national tragedy that struck far too close to home (as every tragic moment does for those who find themselves afflicted with them) about which there shall be precisely zero jokes out of me.  Ever.  Also, due to the more sudden than expected moving on from our hilarious cast of housemates Ladytoa and I had to go find ourselves a landing pad and, well, land there.  Moving takes time and energy.

Also, and here's the one I can really mock - my coworker was recently banished from the Northeastern United States and shunted off to where all of the worst people in the universe are trapped.  A place they struggle both against the harsh, poisonous environments and also their own base, depraved natures.  A place of fire and brimstone and Foster's. (Which is Australian for Beer.  Alright, I admit it.  he was in Australia.)  In case you're wondering, I did some very solid research about Australia before he went away.  That way, I would be prepared for whatever desert madness he brought with him.  It turns out that literally everything in Australia is poisonous and has unexpectedly large teeth.  Even the vaginas. 

 Especially the vaginas.

Because of this, native Australians are actually not able to eat anything at all from their own continent and so have an entire culture built on piracy, both internet and otherwise.  They sail from their ports with their flags inverted only to ravage the countryside of New Zealand and Tasmania (sometimes ranging as far asea as Japan), taking what they can, burning what they can't and then retreating back to their coastal hovels to jealously hoard their ill gotten gains and attempt to protect (via knifings and football riots) the small bit of normalcy they buy themselves with the pain of others.  You think I'm making this up, but I'm not.  My coworker came back missing an eye but with peg leg and a propensity to cheer for Arsenal.  True story.

His trip created a situation in which I was doing literally two people's work for the last six weeks and just haven't had time to find inappropriate photos of carny-freaks to show people who have nothing better to do. Now he's back and that problem, at least, is solved.

But what does the future hold?  More posts about absolutely nothing?  Probably.  More jokes about my own lack of worth in this whole internet game, as it were?  Almost certainly.  Anyone who blunders into my path wondering aloud who this person is who uses phrases like "this whole internet game" and lamenting their loss of time while they read through the above paragraph?  Yes.  Check and mate, planet Earth.  I just won.

For really, though - my life is about to be a whirlwind of change.  Within the next six months (at the outside) or as few as three (at the earliest) I will be moving along with Ladytoa to the mythical land of Tejas.  Ladytoa will be blazing a trail for us first, and also starting a job to ensure no gap in health insurance coverage (yay! adulthood!).  I will be following when said things are all in place and all of our stuff (or at least the majority of it) has been put to bed up here.  Once we get down there and settled, our next real challenge begins.  It has to do with Apache Chief.  He just loves to bogart the whiskey.  (No?  Too Soon?  Not soon enough?  I mocked both the late-70s classic Challenge of the Superfriends and also Native Americans' unfortunate propensity for alcoholism.  In case you missed what I did there.  Now you know.  The real challenge, by the way is learning to live in the South.  Or even Tejas.  Which is like so South that the South thinks you're southern.  Also buying a house.)

While things remain in flux, chances are high that I will continue to post my random thoughts about the goings on of the day.  I may eventually settle down and write a more coherent blog with an actual overriding theme (shudder) - whether that replaces or supplements this, however, only time will tell.