MOD YOUR MOM

I can sort of characterize the last five years of my life as a series of ruts. I'm not always in one, mind you. Sometimes I crawl out and go on vacation or enjoy a healthy string of partying, sunny weather, juicy foods and creative excellence. I think this how most people's lives go, which is something I failed to recognize until I became a man and started washing my own undies. Anyway, 2010 has been pretty cool for me, and I think I've sort started accepting the things that happen to, and around me. I guess you could say I'm in a rut now because I'm not too different from the bright eyed young man who began his independent life five years ago, but I've evolved to a point where I can be a productive dude whilst here.

I got a good rhythm going now

I wake up and cook breakfast and dinner simultaneously. Eat your heart out computers -- you're not the only noun around here that can multitask.

Today I over-spiced my stir-fry though, but not enough to not eat it. My wet tickler was on fire while reading a fantasy book whose characters suffer constantly, so I choked it all down, enduring what doctor's call "lava teeth" and thanked the Lord of Light that at least I wasn't covered in mud and surrounded by wolves and rapists. That George R.R. Martin likes two things - graphic sex and constant bummers. Quick. Imagine what the author of an epic fantasy series looks like.....got it? This is what you were picturing, right?

"My name is George Martin, and yeah, I wish dragons were real"

After my meals are prepared I hope on my little car on go to work. Nothing much has changed on that front, and I could probably write volumes of silly things, introducing you to a wacky cast of characters and ridiculous situations, but if HR caught wind of it I'd be canned faster than gran-gran's homestyle slop. I can safely disclose that I bought new pants.

Gap Khakis, the original pant. These babies are far more comfortable than the inexpensive ones I usually buy. A king would laugh at that because to him, Gap is the peasant's store. His pants cost three emeralds and a strong goat. I guess I should take this opportunity to take the new pants oath:

I swear to wear and and always care
Avoid grease and blood and blood drenched mud
Wash, dry, iron, repeat
I won't eat beats or bloody meats

When I get home I try to get some writing done, which is tough because once the working day is done, dudes just want to touch buns. Currently I'm working on a TV show about Heaven and I still find time to touch buns.

I'm realizing more and more that life isn't as complicated as you make it out to be. All you really need is family, friends, pizza and vacations, while turning your nose up at the dung that gets hucked your way. Or better yet, take that dung and grow some damn yams or something.