Well fuck.
So, how long has it been since I've
written anything down on this here blogtown? A year? Two years? We'll
say it's been a while. I've had the pleasure of talking to some of
you, and I guess that four, maybe five of you are excited as shit to
see me type words onto the internet again. For the rest of you, well,
there's always pornography. Mr. Charlton isn't going to blame a
person for wanting to touch themselves instead of reading what I have
to say. As far as why I quit the blog, there's a few reasons.
- I had a career.
Also.
There were some good things about this,
and some bad (mostly bad), but long story short, being a at computer
all day, then coming home to a computer and writing well into the
evening was looking less and less appealing to this handsome man. As
well, a lot of companies want your online personality to shine. I'm
not saying I don't shine like a diamond. I do. But the idea that I
was now representing the company on my free time made writing about
dolphin cocks a little harder than usual. I found a fantastic
solution though. I quit my job.
Yes, yes, yes, you've heard this all
before. This wouldn't be the first time Mr. Charlton took a good long
at his life and politely said...
“Fuck this shit.”
I've a had a lot of people ask me what
I'm going to be doing. I've been telling them plenty of things.
- I'm going to travel to South East Asia and become a wandering monk.
- I'm going to go back to school to teach myself computer science.
- I'm going to finally sit down and finish writing that damn book.
- I'm going to train an elk to be my stead because that's the closest thing to a Unicorn I might ever get to ride.
Anyone telling me they wouldn't ride a horse with a fucking spear on it's head into battle is a liar
So here's the deal. I'm going to flat
out say I've got an idea of what I want to do. But I'm keeping that a
secret. Some of y'all know what I'll be doing for certain. Most of
you don't. Mr. Charlton likes mystery, so it's going to stay that way
for a while. Feel free to drop me a line if you really need to know.
I'm going to remind you that mystery is way sexier than honesty, and
I'd love for you fine people to stay sexy as all sin. But when I say
some of you know what the scoop is, right now it's two people. And
one of them is Mom.
I'm going to keep this short, 'cause
this is more of a re-introduction than a full on post. If you're
wondering where I am, I'm hanging out in Golden for a bit. Getting my
bearings, getting rid of some shit (If you need a fondue set, I have
a KILLER little number that is perfect for re-creating 1970's
parties. Quaaludes not included).
How long are you going to be there? For
a while, but not for too long. Vagueness is sexified mystery.
Where am I going? Honestly, that's a
little irrelevant to me at this point. I ain't too worried about the
actual location.
What am I doing? Goddamnit people, stay
sexy for me. Keep the mystery alive!
Why am I doing this? I've been in the
consulting game for a decade people. I've been a desk jockey for ten
damn years. I've got no kids, no mortgage, no career and nothing but
time. If I'm going to do something crazy, this might be the last
ticket I can punch.
Who are you? Well.... hold on a sec. Is
the next question going to be How something question again?
Uhhhh..... Listen, captain twenty
questions, let's lay down some ground rules.
- I don't know when I'm going to update this shit.
If this were business, then yeah, I'd
be saying shit like 'New content every Monday and Thursday!' But I
forfeited my internet dollars the second I started swearing on the
blog. It's through Google, and if you read the fine print, they like
to keep things kid friendly. I'm about as kid friendly as rat poison.
I've got no fuckin' idea when I'm going to update shit. All four to
five of you are going to have to wait until inspiration strikes.
- I don't know what I'm going to write about.
I was aiming for some sort of theme the
last go-around with this blog, and that ain't happening. Will pretty
much be off the cuff. There was some good topics last time, there
were some bad topics last time. I'm not going to be putting junk up
here just to meet an invisible quota for myself. Let's shoot for good stuff.
- I do not edit this shit all that much.
I wrote a short story two days ago, one
that I'm really proud of. I had a couple of people look at it and rip
it to shreds. Did a re-write, and now I'm really, really proud of it.
I'm going to have one or two more people take a peek, tweak it, and
I'm hoping it will be blooming after that. Good writing takes
editing, it takes fresh eyes, it takes feedback. With this junk, I
might take one good look at it, do a re-write, then ship it, warts
and all. This isn't my Sistine Chapel. This is my ledger where I
doodle.
With that last bit I said, fuck people,
feel free to criticize a guy. How the hell is a guy supposed to
improve if nobody is telling me it's shit?
Look, if you know me, you know that I
have an ego that borders on being a problem. When I masturbate, I
look in the mirror and think of me. If some of you think that you'll
hurt my feelings, just remember this; my last girlfriend called my a
soulless, emotionless robot, and part of me took it as a compliment.
Maybe one day my programming will allow for love.
Anyways, I'll be in touch. I've had a
few adventures, a number of stories, and a couple of yarns to spin.
It'll be sooner than later. Until then, you fine, sexy,
not-going-to-ask-a-lot-of-questions people, this gentleman is signing
off.
Sincerely,
The Illustrious Mr. Charlton
p.s. Mad apologies to Dr. Hottie for
being a robot. Keep kicking cancer's ass.
p.s.s. I get it. Sexified is not a word. I'm still using it, damnit.
