I told myself I would never be so selfish as to start a blog. Well, it seems I’m a narcissist just like everyone else because here I am.
After observing and experiencing the sometimes frightening, daily vicissitudes of life in our go-go-go, me-me-me, I-want-it-now, no-time-to-stare-out-the-window 21st century, it became apparent that unless I had a forum with which to vent outrage and frustration, actual steam was about to blow out my ears, accompanied by the sound of Fred Flintstone’s end-of-work-day siren.
This is all complaints. Discursive complaints about movies, drivers, societal trends, politicos, sports, music, people who annoy me… all ranting and raving. Once in a while I may post something I like, probably a movie or book, but that’s about it.
There’s no place for publishing personal gains and successes on the web. We all have them from time to time. Posting them for the world to see is akin to Julia Roberts presenting at the Academy Awards and declaring to one billion people–ninety percent of which are probably miserable–”I love my life.” Somebody kill me.