Skip to main content

Running Away 2012 Style

I saw a facebook magnet (god, I hate those) that said 'Threatening to delete your facebook account is like running away was as a'll come back.'

And that's probably true.

I tried to ween myself off of it before.
I posted on Facebook all the time about it. Irony, that.

Even now, while I'm trying to move on, all I'm doing is fucking posting about it. But my time on there tonight was a lot less than it would have otherwise been.

I swear it's the fucking devil.  Or at least a demon spawn.

I think I need a whole chapter in my book on "God, the Universe, and Whatever Else Pops in My Head"* on how antiGod uses Facebook and other (anti)Social Media to lure us away from love in to apathy.

You see, the opposite of love is not hate. To hate you still have focus as much attention and passion, if not more, on your object of hatred than you do when you're in love. The emotional ties are actually stronger with hatred. They aren't opposites. No, love and hate are more like neighbors.

The opposite of love is apathy. When you no longer care about someone or something, you fall out of love with it. You fall out of hate with it. It ceases to have any concern or hold in your life whatsoever. Apathy is the true antiLove. But that's quite likely going to be a chapter in one of my next books, so I'll refrain from including it here.

Fuggnuts. Wouldn't you know it?I still didn't cut my hair.

I need to. Shit's long.

See what happens when I just start going all stream of consciousness on it without any concern for whether I'm going to run out of space to type? Yeah...strap yourselves in ladies and gents. This is the real Todd. Not that Reader's Digest Condensed version you've been getting over yonder in Zuckerfuckerland.

With that dear reader(s), I'm off to bed. I have some things to check on in Dreamland.

One of these days I'll dig in depth about what I mean when I say 'Dreamland'...or I could leave that for the book, too.

Either way, it's time for me to slumber now.

Peace out.

*I was originally going to call the next book "UGH: Unifying God Hypothesis" but I'm really digging the title,  "God, the Universe, and Whatever Else Pops in My Head" instead. I mean, it pays homage to one of my writing (style) heroes, whilst simultaneously giving the reader a clear understanding about what they will be reading should they crack the spine and actually realize that there are words within.

Prettyfuckingbrilliant if you ask me.

no, I know you didn't.

Oh...sometimes I swear. And stupid me, one of my facebook friends is actually a co-worker (not at my location, but for the same company)....oh...and another is married to my ...oh...never mind. This is part of who I am. I have to be honest and tell you now that anything you get on this particular blog would be no better or worse than you would hear from me if you joined me for a pint at my local watering hole.

In other words, this is the unfiltered (mostly) Todd.

You've been given fair notice. Hope that helps.

Heh. OK. Now I really AM heading up to bed.


Popular posts from this blog

Marriage Material??

I had a friend call me today, fuming. I consider myself a good listener on most days. Considering that I was out of town on a work trip and doing absolutely nothing in my hotel room, my listening game was on-point.

She recounted the exchange that sent her off. I will spare you some of the more personal details, but the gist was, at one point, the dude-bro she was talking to flat out told her that she wasn’t marriage material.

Torn between wanting to be a supportive friend and being completely gobsmacked, I felt her frustration. No. That’s not quite right. I didn’t feel the same frustration she felt. I’m approaching what some consider middle age. I’m white. I’m primarily interested in women. Oh, and I have a penis., I can never truly feel the same frustration she was feeling. Or an anger that comes from the same place her anger came from. No matter how in touch I am witn my feminine side (whatever the fuck that actually means).

Instead, the frustration and anger I was feeling w…

Post Con-Fusion

It's 5:40 AM on a Wednesday. I have been up for an hour. I have an outline for a work in progress that I intended to work on this morning. I was in the middle of a chapter that I started at lunch and had every intention of continuing this morning. But, much like me, it seems the characters wanted to sleep in today. They wanted to just hunker under the covers as the rain danced its hypnotic melody on my roof. The swoosh swoosh swoosh of the ceiling fan keeping time with the rest of the nocturnal orchestra.

So, I shifted gears. I am taking  a course on getting more words on the page. Something that I want to do need to do if I am to get all of these books that are floating around in my head out in to the world. It's not so much that I think the whole world will love and adore them, although I certainly hope that is the case. No, it's more the fact that it's getting crowded up there. I need to get these words on the page for my own sanity as much as anything else.


The Kindness of Strangers

This post is going to be a little bit all over the place. If you know me, you are probably used to that by now. If you don't know me, welcome. My name is Todd. I'll be your slightly insecure author and docent on this tour of randomness we call Todd's Mind.

I am going to get a little real, and probably a little raw here today. I would normally be terrified of that. Of exposing myself to the world at large. But in looking at the stats for this blog in the 22weeks or so since I've left Facebook, the reality, I'm exposing myself to about 10 of you. Less if some of you come back and re-read some of the posts. So...yeah. Here goes.

I can count on 1 finger the number of times including today where I have run out of gas. Not talking about pulling into the gas station on vapors, but actually having the car die and coast to a stop because that life-giving dead dinosaur juice was no longer in the tank.

One time.


It's my own fault. I don't like to admit when I&#…