I hate blogs

I've hated blogs for years. People call 'em blogs, weblogs, diaries, journals, notes, rants, and multitudes of other names to disguise what they really are - rantings of bored people with nothing better to do with their time.

Yet here I find myself bored with nothing better to do with my time.

I hate bloggers that reveal their innermost feelings and emotions, or just talk about boring mundane tasks that nobody cares about. I realized I felt this way while I was watering my grass over the weekend and thinking about all my past romantic relationships and wondering where they all went wrong. Ahhhh.... fuck.

I'm starting to hate living in a snobby, sheltered suburban neighborhood. Everyone on my street seems to have 2.5 kids running around trying to sell me $5 boxes of chocolate. I'm the youngest homeowner on the street, yet I feel like the crazy old man that yells at kids to stay off my yard. I don't actually yell at them, but I have started the habit of "accidentally" turning on my sprinklers when they're around. It actually looks like a legit accident now that I have grass.

I'm going to have more than a few big bashes this summer. Let's see how long it takes for my neighborly neighbors to call the cops on me. Should be interesting.