A Pause (to reflect on the greatest post ever)

I don't want to be the cynical guy in the room. It's not a challenge anymore. I like having a critical mind, but I don't like looking at things so cynically. What's worse, I don't want reader's of this site to get comfortable with a certain style of my personality that comes out in writing, posting, relating. Here's what I'm trying to say, but can't seem to say: You, the reader, may know me, the blogger, and be used to my jokes, cynical remarks, and critical view of the world. This is great if that were my only shtick. I admit, sometimes I take things too seriously or not seriously enough. I criticise everything that isn't a sanctioned product of Alex and isolate people with harsh statements. Ok, still pretty murky. This is also known as "Alex only has 4-5 minutes to post something so he goes for laughs" side to me. It sometimes leads me to say things like "am I as awkward as you?". The point is, what happens when I post something contrite and heartfelt? Have I trained my readers to be completely cynical of even the writer's writings? Can you truly believe that I could be touched by something emotionally evocative? You see, if my actions are 95% humorous/cynical, I have a hard time believing that you could wade through what I've already established as status quo to find the nugget of truth. Or maybe this thought process is completely lost on you. Perhaps you really are that unaffected by all things cynical. If so, I applaud you and envy you, and this post has merely shown you that from one cynic to another, it's hard to believe (or wade through) what's already been. My hope is that this gives pause to some of you cynics out there. It's great to be the smartest guy (or the most cynical) in the room, but at the end of the day when your heart's on the line, will you receive a cynical response via the same crop of cynicism you've sewn.

So Busy. No Time for Funny.

except this:

Labor Day...and knowing is half the battle.

For those of you who are just waking up, I'd like you to know that I blissfully went to work today. 10-2. Not quite the long haul, but still. Who works on Labor Day? I spent the day talking with the minions and developing my alter-ego which of course, you don't need to tell me is lame. Everyone has one of those "collector" hobbies, this is mine. From 1984ish to 1992ish, my brothers and I would get GI Joes for Christmasi (that's christmas plural) and Birthdays. So do the math 4 brothers x 8 years x 5 yearly events = the GNP of a small micronisian country. We literally had/have an army. So check it out from time to time. I will be posting pictures and weekly updates on my collecting efforts. a.b. (GI Joseph)

The Anti-Blog

With 3 hours and 15 minutes left in my day, Billy Joel is taunting me via muzak with "Only the Good Die Young". I could post about how lots of people die young: good, bad or otherwise. I could post about the inhumanity of being forced to muzak for hours on end. Or, I could just go back to drinking my diet Canada Dry and wishing the day would speed up. Option "C" it is.

A New Way of Life; A Happier Home

So I figured something out: If I save up my rants for this blog and avoid unleashing them on the Mrs, life is much more pleasant at home. That seems simplistic or obvious, but not if you know me. Big statements, big insults were the key to alleviating my frustrations.

Here's a sample, which conveniently enough, I experienced just the other day:

What I would have said to the Mrs: I hate dogs and I hate their stupid owners. I can't even go for a run in the local neighborhood because people leave their friggin' dogs off their friggin' leashes and they run into the street after me. I was just hoping one would bite me so I could sue them for all their stupidity. What I will write here: I hate dogs and I hate their stupid owners. I can't even go for a run in the local neighborhood because people leave their friggin' dogs off their friggin' leashes and they run into the street after me. I was just hoping one would bite me so I could sue them for all their stupidity.

There's a subtle difference, but you'll have to look for it.

So, Stupid Dog Owner, go out and buy yourself a book before your dog costs you your house.