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I have found out that since starting this blog I have stopped emailing friends with actual information about my life. My emails now tend toward the annoying and obtuse. Why some of my emails are no more than me sending out the equivalent of a swimming pool “Marco” awaiting the inevitable “Polo” response from the deep end. The last email conversation I had with one arbitrarily hypothetical friend boiled down to:

Me: Meetings suck
Arbitrarily Hypothetical Friend: I know
Me: And how?
AHF: You know it.
Me: Uh-huh!
AHF: You Bet
Me: There weren’t even snacks
AHF: Poor thing
Me: You know it.
AHF: Uh-huh!
Me: You bet …

In effect I have allowed this blog to be the de facto information superhighway of the significant events in my life. I figure, why should I email them the events of my life, they are reading the blog, they know what’s going on with me, Wifey, and Little Man? I detail my entire life in meticulous detail with this online record of my existence. How could one feel they were left wanting when they have this glorious repast of “Under Construction” awaiting them for their greedy consumption? “How?” I ask you, “How?”

Then I read through a bunch of my posts yesterday and realized something. Other than being narcissistic and taking great satisfaction in reading my own “work” I realized that those poor friends of mine whom I thought were getting all this information about my life were really just getting glimpses into my disturbed mind. Then I realized that I was thirsty, but that is beside the point. The point is, I owe some long expository emails to these friends of mine letting them know some more of the nitty gritty details that I purposefully omit in my posts. I don’t want to give my Internet stalkers any more information than necessary. Don’t get me wrong, the info is out there, I just want the stalkers to work for it. They will be more satisfied that way. So much more satisfied.

Of the almost 525 posts I have made most have such inconsequential merit, that really they are not worth mentioning. This post included. I guess I owe some folk some emails beyond the typical “Oooh! Free work pizza” emails they typically receive.

To recap:
I write a shit ton that has not one lick of consequence
Not sure what Little Man and I will partake of for dinner tonight
I am sure it won’t be good for me
“Oooh! Free work pizza” should be translated in the second person imperative sense
Makes me seem more badass
Saving poor pizzas from fascist gulags
I could do with some free pizza at the moment
I guess some crackers will have to do