I’ve come to terms with the blogging thing. I’m just going to use it as a journal. I haven’t told anyone about it. I don’t think anybody reads it. I’ll write away, and document myself in a digital manner.
I had noodles for lunch. My sister and I took the train to Little Tokyo and we had noodles. Noodles, is a word I like quite a bit. It just sounds funny to say aaahhh noodles. It’s second best to “what the cupcake.” What the cupcake is that? It so easy to say fuck’en. Fuck’en is not creative and down right offensive, but cupcake, now that’s a word I can stand behind. I’m one of those old school guys that likes to keep the language clean. I come from a good family and think it best to be classy if you can. These new kids don’t know anything about classy. It use to be that the culture was set up for it. That was the purpose in life to be classy. There were classy cars, classy hats, classy cologne, classy dresses, classy suits. Now it’s all mock classy. It’s the anti-class. I’m guilty of it. I don’t like to tuck my short in. I have a history of having long hair. From time to time I’ll let my beard grow. Dumb things like that can detract from classy. On occasion I’ll don a suit and come back to classy.
People don’t strive for classy anymore. It’s purposeless materialism that we possess in today’s America. It’s aimless. It’s more about the blue jeans then the black strapless dress. The farmers have taken over the world and their selling the rural community to the people of the metropolitan. Huh? I’m writing to my self. To who ever I pick up on the way. It doesn’t matter what I write about. It’s all an exercise.
No comments:
Post a Comment