Cutting Corners

11 09 2007

People laugh when they find out my deep dark secret. I’m square. It goes like this: Guilt. I wrote a rough lesson using poor Britney Spears as example, Stage Fright wasn’t on the curriculum anytime soon. I just wanted to see if I could do it. You know, bash a celebrity.

Secretly I’ve been reading Celebrity Blogs because my friends keep telling me that that is what I should be doing because that is where all the freakin’ money is at.

A Hot Mess made it to the hawt post. Personally I think my writing is better.

The joke is really on me because #1. I just found out that lol means laugh out loud.

Yeah, I’ve whipped a few asses back in the day; I was a even bigger square back then… just because you are square doesn’t mean that you don’t know the power of pussie. uh, wait I was about to say something profound

Let me just say this for #2- when I read the celebrity blogs, gossip newspaper or watch a television blurb, I don’t know who any of those people are.

I could never do a site like that because that would not only mean that I’d need to learn all of their names, how they dress, where they hang out, who they fight with, what charities they support, what politician they endorse, not only would I need to learn all of that stuff- I would have to care. There would need to be some passion present.

Motivation to research them would need would come from some deep place. I would need to start to believe that knowing them and what they do would make my life better some how.

It seems as though it would serve me better to read my Breast Care Book.

I used to really want to meet Prince until he came to Chicago and played guitar with this chick with an cute curly afro- uh, I forget her name… anyway, I stood outside for 2 hours in the wrong shoes. No coat. My chest got cold. By the time that the crowd got let in my Sarcoidosis was acting up. The only guys able to hold their composure were military men on leave.
There were about 3000 people waiting for Prince to do something Princy but all he did was weird music for this afro cutie to sing to. Some songs she did well, others she could have used a little help.

Prince was really a tease that night. Anyway, now I don’t even care if I ever meet him.

The morning after was spent driving in a fog- not believing that I’d held onto HOPE the entire show. It wasn’t easy holding my ground under stage right. People were jumping and smoking etc. My feet remained firm.

Prince never sang a lyric of his stuff.

My friend nudged me 3 times before I moved towards the Exit sign.

It’s Over.

It’s Over.

Time to go home, he’s not coming back.

Truth is, I’ll never be back. Oh sure I’d go to another Prince concert but with innocence gone.



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