According to Alexa and Fearless Editor “That Bitch better not be ovulating” Court “Big Fatty Pun” Sullivan, I am the number one writer on the 72,388th most popular site on the web. And with that kind of power, thankfully, comes no responsibility.
God bless this place.
An acquaintance of mine who took a few writing classes with me back in college, recently and out of fucking nowhere, googled my name and found the site. She read my shit. She was shocked.
Shocked that I wasn't doing more with my writing.
People suck. People really fucking suck.
I replied to her email with the word, “Thanks.”
But I didn't mean it.
And that got me thinking about all the stupid little white lies I say to people that don't add up to anything. I got to thinking about all those little lies and how they can, you know, probably build up over the years into some kind of covert operation for humanity. And maybe that bizzaro operation is some kind of collective ruler of our everyday interactions.
Maybe our little lies own us.
Then again, maybe I want a pizza.
I mean who cares, right?
Like I typed earlier, that's the great thing about writing for PIC. I can post stuff like this and call it done.
Which is good because I'm a little drunk and this is trying me.
We don't have to be sober at PIC. In fact, I don't think it's even encouraged.