- there is no depression deeper than the post-vacation depression. I spent the majority of my week staring at the “275 East, 275 West” signs visible outside my office window, dipping, cursing, and wondering where I went wrong. Didn’t do much work, either. Just stared into the abyss. But I did answer a few emails, so I have that going for me.
- These people who tout the “if you love what you do, you’ll never work another day in your life!!!” stuff need to be shot in the brain.
- I had a great idea while on vacation — these stupid wooden signs bitches hang up in the kitchen. For example, “Live, Laugh, Love.” Or some variation of, “Lake Rules: Read a book, take a nap, talk to God.” What about a dirty version of these you sold on the internet? Like, “Goatf**ker, gutless puke, c**kmunching f*ck”, written in a nice wood-burned calligraphy on a piece of driftwood? Think it has some appeal.
- Lots of people have “support groups,” and bullshit like that. I don’t buy into any of that stuff. But I will say — its dammed great having you assholes to vent to. Thank you for that. A young working dad in this world doesn’t get any recognition. And maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe that’s fair. But it’s still good to be able to talk to y’all. You still suck balls, regardless.
- So on Wednesday I had some business in Lexington. On my way home I stopped at my sister’s house. She lives kind of in the country on the border of Fayette and Scott counties. I will not lie but a goddamned mountain lion jumped out and almost bit off my balls in the parking lot of a Dollar General. All I was trying to do was buy ice cream supplies for my nephews. A goddamned mountain lion. You people are vicious. F**k you, Wes Deskins and your goddamned mountain lion.
- Lick my balls and go F**k yourselves. Really.
- Love you to pieces. Really.