Exposition to a marriage

It's like talking to the next stall: you have no idea whether a person is occupying the porcelain throne, but you maintain your conversational efforts without the concrete evidence of another party.

Maybe it's time I look myself over for wasting too much time looking myself over. Certain areas of me feel they must compensate for violent procrastination, while others are entirely spontaneous, living life as the page turner turns the page.

How can one be persuaded when they are having a hella time convincing themselves? Dramaturgy's posterchildren exist everywhere at every time, usually oblivious to their lines or blocking, although they consistently execute perfectly.

Shit, opening night is merely upon us.


Perhaps my Blog should be topical, with current events and Michael Jackson rips.

"datz not hiz real noze!!"

Publish my violet innards, day after week.


Jolly chlorine,
Brett (Riggasluffsus poseur)