my inner dickhead

I don’t have a great new entry. In fact, I’m somewhat surprised on my lack of need to enter my innermost thoughts. I find the idea fascinating but hard to actually execute.

Frankly, most people’s innermost thoughts are either frightfully boring. Either that or they don’t tell it well. It isn’t the easiest thing in the world to be a writer, I guess.

Also, I find that apart from sharing information about my bodily functions, most of my thoughts are negative; they give voice to my inner dickhead. You know about the inner child, right? Well he’s a pussy, according to my the dickhead.

Negative is funny, often enough. If that weren’t true then there would not be so many Jackass shows or movies along the same thing. Survivor or any of that reality bullshit is all about who gets the shitty end of the stick first. And people love it!

So, I have made an effort to keep the inner dickhead in check. After all, how many more dickheads do we need? It seems that the inner dickhead already drives most cars so I don’t need to add to the level of intellectual dimness that is already there.

The flip-side is that a good many posts, absent the dickhead, will be sappy, over-dramatic claptrap – equally unreadable as yet another treatise on the death of civility. I don’t know what to make of all this. You tell me.