Sarcastro

Hmm... seeking entertainment and you came here? Well it is free. This is that awkward small-talk part of introductions. You know, where I am supposed to say something interesting but not over share, and you are supposed to nod approvingly regardless of what it actually was. Remember that? It creates an opportunity for monloguing which has the potential for filibuster quality boredom. For this reason I would like to be brief... because brevity is the soul of wit... or something. But I know better. I am a damn fool.So while MySpace is the self proclaimed 'place for friends', I actually don't want to be friends with most of you. Nothing personal. Its just that I don't need 200 friends who never keep in touch to feel important. My suburban garage is similiarly cluttered with dusty tools. I don't know why I have them either. And I don't mean we're different. We're not...There are two kinds of people: The kind who think there are two kinds of people, and everyone else ( I think that's Oscar Wilde)But I remember high school cliquery like it was yesterday... or Lord Of The Flies... which might have been yesterday actually. I don't feel like preening, or posing, or hitting on people. That stuff makes my mullet grow uncontrollably... a disturbing thought. There could be parachute pants. And Wang Chung. Lets leave that memory in its Reaganite Oblivion. I think I related to Lloyd Dobler best when he said: "I don't want to sell anything bought or processed... or buy anything sold or processed or process anything sold, bought or processed... or repair anything sold, bought or processed. I don't want to do that."Did I just call you a tool?Except I live in a suburb, which means I have bought lots of useless things and have no where else to put them. And sell things that have been processed. And I process things that have been sold. And beneath all that crap, somewhere, is real beauty. Full wonder. And if the ripples calm just enough there's a glimpse of something incredible that becomes quickly obscured. And then someone sends a friend invite asking me to join their freaking band site or pay for porn site. UGH. But I foolishly seek the wonder... a wondering fool. But its not necessarily serious. I am too easily amused by little things. They probably make a medicine for that... I should know. It doesn't bother me that life's not fair. Why does lamb get a 'b' and ham doesn't? That's not fair. And why all this talk about religious dogma? Why isn't it Godma? I don't know.So I have managed to filibuster for something in the vacinity of 400 words, hoping to bore the easily bored. If you're still reading, you might be an OCD, or just a garden variety misfit, or *gasp* a nice person. Hmm... any of those are interesting. If you're still reading we've survived the monologuing. Its now your turn to say something. Send me an email.Oh... and this is a cool new tool I found... look:

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