And So We Begin. Again.

People keep asking me if I have a blog.*

So it's possible this is because of the "ASK ME ABOUT MY BLOG" tattoo on my face**, but when slightly punched, they insist its because I, as a prime example of a less-than-prime human being, spew out ridiculous, slightly depressing observations about life, the universe, and... Steve.  And I should write that crap down, because as we all know, the world is desperately crying out for another narcissistic doofus scrawling crap on the interwebs.

Especially about Steve.

Steve.

I think what's most important to know, right off the bat, is that I am a terrible person.  (Actually, in Acting for Animators class, I was once required to say the phase "I am a terrible person," and I was told to say it "as if I actually believed it."  I totally aced that class.)  But I've made my peace with it, because in order to be funny, you have to be awful.  So I will be awful.  And you will be amused.  And if you're not amused, I will still be awful, and you'll be a big unamused jerk.

Most funny people are terrible people, or at the very least, seriously fucked up.  (I mean, maybe we should all be doing a collective face-palm here for not steering Hitler toward a comedy career.)  Regardless, one reason is that people whose lives have... ahem... deviated from 2.5 kids and a dog tend to have better stories.  And another reason is that normal, unfunny people like to hear dirt about weirdos whose lives are more fucked up than their own, so they can feel better about themselves.

A normal rat-bastard.

In other words, the Venn Diagram for Funny People vs Fucked-Up People looks like this:

So Funny People vs Fucked-Up People:

I drew this myself.  We can all thank 4 years of art school.

THEY ARE THE EXACT SAME.  I have proved it with MATHS.  Or at least charts.  Which is probably more or less the same thing.***

So there you go.  Now we can all move forward and enjoy my inane rants together, and I'm certain everyone will be WAY TOTALLY better for it.

Even Steve.


* This has actually happened exactly never.
** Not true.  It's actually on my crotch.  Don't make decisions when you're drunk, kids.
*** The sound you hear is my mother, weeping over the thousands she spent sending me to engineering school.