WINGY PHIPPS HERE, IS YOUR GRANDMA HOME, I'VE FOUND HER WIG

Every so often I feel the need to analyze my life and share it on the Internet so when they make the movie of my life, the actor playing me will be able to get into the role a whole lot easier. Dear actor playing me - just stay loose, refer to everyone as "dude" or "man" or "guys" and when you go down to the lake at lunch, stare longingly into the horizon hoping that someone will look at you and think "that man is important" when you're really just trying to put the Eek the Cat theme song together in your head. Anyway, if you're not interested in me being me, feel free to skip to the bottom where you'll find a picture of a girl in a bikini holding machine guns.



DEAR YOU

My goal for 2010 was stay confident and positive, because in 2009 it dawned on me that I wasn't a cool teenager anymore, but a real man who needed to get his act together, which scared the pants onto me. To go with this new attitude I needed new clothes (still got so many grade 11 shirts), and a new work ethic that would make Barack Obama seem like Couch Potato Archetype. So far I've been fairly successful at this -- I bought some new shirts with my own money that have sent the city's most voluptuous women into a tizzy and me and the guys rented that office (tiny room with slanted roof) as a place to write, order Chinese Food and watch Chappelle's show and go on the Internet.

ALTHOUGH

Sometimes the odd bout of feeling like an old bag of gum that no one wants anymore hits me and I react by frowning, lying down and consider becoming a chef. Sometimes I get in such a bad mood that I think there's something wrong with me, but then I saw a documentary on Ricky Williams and how he got depressed, quit football, got way into weed, yoga, natural medicine and being an absentee father, and decided that I'm not in bad shape. Compared to him and other manic depressives with social anxiety, I'm just a crybaby who sometimes gets tricked into believing that life's not fair even though I rationally have nothing to complain about (except taxes!).

SO

I look forward to watching Survivor every Thursday and just keep plugging away at various projects. My biggest problem is thinking that I'm not working hard enough because I know that to be good at writing and stuff, you need to do it all the time and since I'm still a TV loving, Internet addicted floppy walrus with the attention span of Blur from Transformers, I have trouble staying on task sometimes. But slowly, like the chili in the slow cooker of a single woman who can't cook, I'm getting things done and one day a time lord will come into my life and show me that things turn out just fine.

"Hi big boy, give me all your love or I'll shoot. I mean gloves. Give me your gloves. Those priceless ones covered in DaVinci's paint. Seriously, I'll kill you."