Untitled Draft

- came across this in the draft box dated June 21, 2011, apparently I had ripped my underwear that day.

When I first discovered blogging it was a way to kill time and validate silliness with a purpose. It was an instant gratifying medium to publish what was profound and brilliant at the moment (usually after a few beers or wines) without jumping through too many hoops.

Now, I realize it is the last remaining outlet aside from the good ol' fashion diary to put forth my thoughts because nowadays you just can't be too careful about what you write on your status on Facebook for fear it will be copyrighted by what's his face or data mined by recruiting agencies and potential employers to be used against you; in either case you lose getting money. Another reason is you can't really post anything longer than 2 lines because that is just impolite in the fast paced world of acronym laden updates and incredibly small midget thumb stamps of approval. Lastly, your freedom of speech is further impeded by the fact that you did not learn you don't have to "friend" everyone. So now you have to be mindful that your status post might offend friend #267 who rarely checks your status but happened to on the Wednesday you had a bad day at work and #267 happened to be your boss.

Maybe I'm getting old and prudent, but I stopped myself from posting an update about ripping my underwear yesterday. It was not as exciting as it sounds, and it was mostly due to wear and tear. It didn't exactly rip in a particular funny spot, but it did make the funny undewear tear sound. I couldn't think of a way to post it without being overly cheeky or lame as I had just explained it. Come to think of it, it wasn't all that funny after all, kind of like a badly executed whoopee cushion.

So now it's 1am on a Tuesday night, and I'm not sure where this is going. There were a few things on my mind I wanted to put forth, but none of them are related to each other--similar to the rambling I have just demonstrated. On that note...publish.