I like to write. Well technically, I love to rant. Anything that begs an opinion usually results in ample source material to commence bashing a-la prose. Unfortunately, the vargaries of life seldom accord oneself the opportunity to actually sit down and get any serious ranting done.

That said, the only times I find myself sitting in front of my iMac with translating random tidbits of information into something cohesive for publishing on a web backlog (blog if you've never figured it out) is whenever my mood's in a state of flux. What the hell does 'flux' even mean?

I was never that good at expressing myself verbally. Perhaps its the social culture, but technology has evolved to the stage where effective communication is a lost art. When was the last time anyone ever spent any meaningful amount of time speaking with someone about subject matter beyond girls/boys/alcohol/sex/money? We are constantly being kicked in the ass by technology to do everything faster, quicker, more efficiently. Verbal communication is dead as far as its meant as a social interactive medium. Maybe that's why I love to write - there's no pressure for instant communication.

Typing/writing shit out provides the all too often overlooked luxury of delayed response. I get to proofread what I'm saying, with the ability to take back anything I've said as long as the 'Publish' button isn't pressed without penalty. I've often been told that I tend to shoot my mouth off, conveniently bypassing the cranium and sacrificing the chance to perhaps, craft an intelligent response. Verbal communication for me is always one of reaction, often leading to content that may have been better left unsaid. This is when my good friend Hindsight earns his living, and rips me a new asshole.

I haven't blogged for a long time, owing to the usual vagaries of life. Moreso now than ever since I've joined the private sector. Its been a fantastic ride thus far, and it makes me wanna punch myself in the nuts for wasting 1/3 of my life with the Navy. 'Job security' and 'Iron Rice Bowl' are overrated. It may have meant something to the baby boomers 40 years ago, but such terms are now nothing more than outdated human resource lingo that mean squat to a generation chock full of degree holders with frivolous tastes. It was an honor to have a job and make an honest living a few decades ago. These days, consider yourself lucky if your current job doesn't cause you to dread waking up each morning. I wish I were kidding too.

I love my fucking life! And I'm not just saying that...

Here is my contribution..

After 122 hrs..I can finally declare achieving my 1st ever PS3 platinum, for FFXIII no less. Nevertheless, my (massive) penis size remains unchanged and life keeps to the status quo of sucking-but-not-so-much-that-I'd-rather-be-dead-kind-of way.

Its still nice though.

If this is not the most awesome thing ever, trolls will come while you sleep and do bad things to you.

103 days & counting..