I'll-Write, Already!

Dear Highly-Esteemed Guests and Curious Individuals,

For weeks on end, I have been told by various friends, family members and street urchins, that I should "write" or "blog" or "create squiggles upon paper" more often. Well, alright. I get it. I am now beginning my blog. The strange part is that now that I have a forum to say anything I want...well, I have no idea what to say. Usually I'm full of witty quips and silly sayings. Usually, I can make even mine own self laugh out loud (sorry, that's "LOL" for the computatron users). But, tonight...I ain't got nothin'.

My brother often says that when you have writer's block, you just have to keep writing through it until something of substance comes out. So, now I shall try an experiment. I'm going to write whatever comes out of my mind. I'm going to type it exactly as it comes out, and then I'll do a little self-psych-eval to determine if I'm insane or not. Here we go. Seriously...going to just type what comes into my head. (I promise that all blogs will not be like this. Don't worry.)

Here we go:

Sparcum person of magnificent proportions is relegated to the milk carton. Tree-lined doll of wonder can only be a presium day long table.

Well...that did NOT go as planned. Seeing that "Sparcum" is not even a word, nor "presium" (although it sounds like a pharmaceutical), I doubt I'll have much luck finding inspiration tonight.

I will leave you with a little story. It involves beloved (sarcasm) radio talk show host Delilah. I have claimed her as my archenemy. I truly believe that the world would be a better place if Delilah would stop choosing the wrong songs to dedicate to loving couples around the world.

Example:

Cari (that's me!) is driving home from Stillwater. Cari hears Delilah speaking. Cari kind of pukes, and chunks start to rise. Cari swallows down chunks for fear that she'll crash, and she won't get to hear the next stupid thing out of Delilah's mouth. Cari listens to a lovely young woman tell her story. The young woman was almost 90% deaf in both ears. Her boyfriend stood by her. She finally got cochlear implants, and she can now hear her boyfriend's voice for the first time in 7 years. The story was long and tragic and beautiful. Keep in mind that Cari felt a strange attachment to aforementioned couple.

What song do you think that Delilah chose, my friends? U2's "All I Want Is You"??? No.
"Because You Love Me" by Celine? Not a chance. "Your Song" by Elton John? Oh, no, no, no.

She chose.....drumroll...."Let's Hear It For the Boy." Get it? HEAR IT? Cuz the girl was deaf? Jesus Christ.

Delilah, I will find you in a dark alley someday. And, when I do, I will shine a light in your face while screaming, "LET'S HEAR IT FOR THE BOY?!?!?! REALLY!?!?!" Then, we'll listen to Nina Simone and Arcade Fire for hours and hours on end. Then, I'll tug on your tongue a whole bunch and poke your vocal chords until your voice doesn't annoy me any more.

That is all for now. Thank you. Goodnight.