11 May 2018

Man, I don’t wanna sound Old, but it sure is a shame that content has migrated from personal websites to Ubiquitous Social Media Platforms. I miss reading people’s websites. It felt so intimate! And charming! At the advice of my attorney, I do not look at any of Those Platforms, and so I don’t really read anything on the internet anymore. Maybe it’s for the best though . . . in all honesty I don’t give two shits about whatever people are saying THESE DAYS. I think, maybe, all innocence has gone from it. Is that dramatic? Yeah probably! There used to be this beautiful optimism to people’s little websites. Now there is this unassailable dread that bums me out big time. I need something to counterbalance the darkness of my own worldview!

You know? Content and people’s opinions, and on and on, are purposely designed to be viewed one after the other ad finitum, many voices screaming together about god-knows-what until it’s time to move onto the next talking point. Rats fighting over a chicken bone! I don’t care if I ever see any of that again. Sorry!!!

Bad news: This thing isn’t going anywhere. I am going to update this godforsaken WEB DESTINATION until California slides into the ocean, or until mushroom clouds bloom over every major American city (including San Francisco!). And if I somehow survive the blast and subsequent nuclear fallout, and if the radio towers and satellites haven’t spectacularly flamed out in the California hills and in the starless night sky, you’ll hear from me again from my heavily-armored Datsun 280zx somewhere in the Nevada desert. From there I will provide instructions on this very website in large text (Gotham 40px) on how to get to the place I am preparing for the orphans of this world—for the unmoored and rudderless and hopelessly melancholy souls for whom I routinely extend infinite patience and sympathy!!! Dante will be in the passenger seat, but I have room in the back for two or three of you smaller ones, provided you don’t mind spooning one another for potentially many hundreds of miles on that beautiful red 1982 upholstery. Just mind the jugs of irradiated drinking water!

Oops! This post got weird fast. Well . . . seeya!