I thought the title appropriate, given the endless number of adjectives I could use to degrade myself time and time again. Alas, I'm not that much of a narcissist. Given the fact that this blog will probably cease to...you know...function as time goes on and I get lazier, I would not bind myself emotionally to this blog.
So, if you're reading this now, I beg you not to hang on to my every word. Trust me, they are not that enthralling.
As for Shakespeare, I'm not sure whether or not he would be proud. I always thought that he, like many other people in my imagination, had quite a good sense of humor about this whole thing.
The world, that is.
And that it is, funny. He might not be proud of what I did to Macbeth, but if I even managed to get a smirk out of his rotting bones, mine would be a happy day.
And a happy day, or evening, to all of you as well.
"A donut without a hole is a danish."
That is terribly funny.
And it made me think.
With every joke there is a little truth, and with every truth there is a little joke.
It is humor.
That is terribly funny.
"I'd like my headstone to say: Someone. Sometime-Sometime. He tried."
That is terribly funny.
And it does not make me think.
Because I have acknowledged that it is absolute truth.
And that is terribly funny.
Kurt Vonnegut wrote Breakfast Of Champions.
That is terribly funny.
I suggest you read it, for the purpose of humility.
That is terribly funny.
Modesty.
Something we haven't possessed in ages.
And that is terribly funny.
And that is absolute truth.
And that is terribly funny.
And so terribly sad.
And so terribly maddening.
And so terribly us.
And that is terribly funny.
