what a strange question

so last night, someone asked me, "are you on email?". i mean how very 1997.

isn't asking somene if they have an email address a bit like asking them if they have fingernails? at this point, don't we just assume everyone has at least one email address?

i've actually lost track of the number of email addresses i have/have had, but i'm pretty sure it's in double digits.

closet-tastic

just in time for his court date, here's a re-cap and a preview for r kelly's work of genius trapped in the closet. made. of. awesome. in the loosest possible sense. strong language etc, probably not really safe for work.

5 years gone

so ATSOT is now 5 years old, happy birthday blog. i feel like a neglectful parent, my offspring - unable to take care of itself - left to languish in a corner while i live the high life, throwing it scraps occasionally.

it's not that i don't think about blogging anymore, just that i don't actually, y'know, get down to doing it. there's something instantly stultifying about the blogger interface these days that somehow depresses me, or at least supresses my urge to communicate.

and i've become more secretive in my old age. sometimes i want to write something, but the urge to obfuscate it leaves me frustrated and my writing seems to be more abstract than the average horoscope.

but i will not abandon you, blog, you're still a weird part of me, and much beloved.