The Next Question

We at clearancebin cannot apologize enough for overlooking this hypertext jewel for over TWO MONTHES. We are clearly (insert a pleuralized form of a word from the list below). And, as annoying as it is to open a fresh zine or blog that has been TWO MONTHES overdue to find the first paragraph eaten up in guilt and self-obsession (with SELF-OBSESSION and GUILT spelled out in all caps like characters from PILGRIMS PROGRESS(and parabolic subparenthesis of HUMILIATION)), please forgive our grammar and indesivieness on the exact extent to grovel.

Suitable self-referential statements (to be inserted anywhere necessary when in correspondence with the (insert a plueralized form of a word from the list below) at clearancebin)[listed alphabetically for ease of use]:
ass, birdbrain, blockhead, bonehead, boob, bore, buffoon, butt, chump, clod, clown, cretin, dimwit, dolt, donkey, dope, dork, dumb ox, dunce, dunderhead, dupe, easy mark, fair game, fall guy, fathead, goat, gomeral, gomeril, goose, halfwit, idiot, ignoramus, illiterate, imbecile, innocent, jackass, jerk, lamebrain, laughing stock, lightweight, loon, lunkhead, meathead, moron, nerd, nincompoop, ninny, nitwit, numskull, oaf, omadawn, ownshook, pushover, sap, schlemiel, silly, simpleton, stooge, sucker, turkey, twerp, twit, victim

So, without further ado, clearancebin presents the jewel that can split post-modernist crap-hounding (see also detritus-fishing, jive-talking, rink-dinking)—the one finger of ““zen”” which is sold in no catalog ((yet))—our treasured question of friendship:

“So, I guess my question to you is, given these almost uncontrollable and nearly sub-conscious proclivities to make fun (by exaggerated imitation) of each and every human being I encounter, should I ever expect to make new friends? Or should I just look up and torment old ones?”

May I swear in order to express my enthusiam over this question? Understand, this is not asked in sarcasm but in sincerity (which is the thorn in my side—that is to say my sincerity comes out as sarcasm), but SWEET BEETLEBUM’S WITHERED TONGUE what a question. Hardly a day passes anymore I don’t ask myselves some form of this question. Heck, it was the whole reason I started writing this stupid blog in the first stupid place.

Unfortunately, I don’t know the answer to this question. But, anyone who is willing to ask it is clearly a very old friend of mine.

On a lighter note, I realized the other day that there is a God and this God does care about me but this God is asleep when I am awake and awake when I am asleep. So, this God is no longer excepting tithes, oathes, or promises… Only wishes, hopes, and dreams (and I have no clue what this God does with these things, but he has them in a warehouse somewhere I think). I’m tired now. Goodnight all you scattered beams of light.