tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70028412011-04-21T16:32:30.517-07:00Gabriel Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762463893551688838noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002841.post-1084671805405196532004-05-15T18:25:00.000-07:002004-05-15T18:43:25.406-07:00Yet here I am, blogging away. This, my friends, is indeed my first blog. Or is it Blog? Either way, I was a Virgin Blogger until a few moments ago when I nailed that Y key. <br /> <br />And it's all downhill from here. <br /> <br />Something about Blogging has always rubbed me the wrong way. Don't ask why, maybe it's the same reason I avoid the countless web sites on the 'Net filled with emotional lament and self-pity. Or simply the plethora of useless waste that people manage to churn out every day. <br /> <br /><em>"Last night I was baking cookies, and I stubbed my toe on this pair of roller skates, the same pair my daddy bought me back in '97 to make up for missing my ballet recital. Well maybe he wouldn't have missed it if he wasn't boozed up and hanging out with that trampy secretary of his, no doubt romping on the very desk that I sat next to every day after school, waiting for him to "close up shop" before we headed home. More like checking for lipstick smears and throwing on some cheap cologne to cover up that whores dime-store perfume. <br /> <br />And now I'm here, looking at this pair of skates, my toe throbbing, and I just want to tear my eyeballs out with a garden rake so I never have to SEE those ugly skates again. Still.. they linger, and my thoughts linger, and no amount of will can bring me to throw those skates away. If only I had a life... a real life, like the ones you hear about in the movies - with loving parents, and a dog that didn't get run over by the Schwan's man in the driveway. Like an ice cream sandwich is going to get my over fluffy. One day I'm going to find that Schwan's guy and show him how I really felt. No, no... I could never hurt anyone. Just myself. And I don't even deserve it...</em> <br /> <br />Okay, okay... that illustrates my point well enough. Well now I'm bored of typing and the sour vision of a lonely, chubby, self-loathing daughter of a cheap, cheating father is hanging in my head. And I'm on the verge of actually writing something else completely pointless. <br /> <br />So unless you want to hear about how I bumped my head on a cabinet door and it reminded me of the cabinets in my dad's old townhouse.... <br /> <br />:P<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002841-108467180540519653?l=gharper.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gabriel Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762463893551688838noreply@blogger.com3