Sunday, August 19, 42 A.D.

Dear Journal...

Hi.  I know it's been awhile.  Ok, a long while.  But it's not what you were thinking.  I did NOT abandon you.  I've just been busy.  I tried to call to tell you, but it seems the phone companies still have some snooty rule against providing service to writing repositories incapable of paying their bills.  Please don't blame me for the sins of a capitalist society.

Had I been able to call, I would have told you how much I missed you.  And how I've always enjoyed the time we've spent together.  And, umm,  that I've moved.

Changed residences, in fact.

Skipped town, as Roget might say.

The thing to remember is this:  I always intended to take you with me.  I did!  It's just that my old hard copy journal took up so much room in the truck that there simply wasn't room to slip in a single floppy with even a small part of you on it.  You know I still love you more, though - right?  In your paragraph of paragraphs, you knew I'd be back - didn't you?  I'm simply NOT the type of almost-jester to toss my favorite word bucket to the wind and run like hell.  And even if I wanted to, I'm simply not that athletic.  I would have had to segue like hell, and I have it on good authority that that's what really did in the dinosaurs.  A brontosaurus with a terminal stride I am not!

In any case, I'm back now.  And I PROMISE never to leave you unattended again for almost 3 months unless the pay is a damn sight better than it was this time.

KIDDING!  Couldn't you tell I was kidding?  Have you really lost your sense of humor entirely merely because you've been kept locked up in the dark in some faraway server for 10 weeks?  I'll have you know that I was trapped in the public education system for over 12 years but you don't see me getting all ticked off about that now, do you?  Grow up already!

Ok, if it'll make you feel any better, I'll be perfectly honest here for once and say this:  The thought of not coming back DID cross my mind once or twice.  Or maybe 233 times if the movers didn't permanently damage the abacus I just unpacked today.  The fact is, you have this way of making me feel so... inferior.  I mean, you're way prettier than I am, thanks to Adobe PhotoDeluxe and HTML.  And you get invited into way more homes and offices than I ever do.  And it seems that the prettiest girls allow you to permanently link to their sites while even ugly great-grandmothers tend to call the cops on me if I so much as try to lick the handles of their car doors.

Not that I've actually tried to do that lately, it being a hot summer and all - I'm just saying.....  you could have made it easier for me to return.

By being a tad less difficult to compete with.

By whimpering just a little bit louder and more melodramatically.

By sending me one of those irresistible "Get rich quick!" emails with a "Click here if you want to be an instant millionaire!" link leading straight to your main page.

It takes TWO to make an estrangement, ya know.  And until cloning is perfected, it looks like it's gonna stay that way for some time to come.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, "I'm back now!"

And really - aren't you sorry you traded in the peace and quiet of your Internet tomb for more of THIS sort of rambling tripe?

What  - you expected me to improve with time?!

HA!  You may fancy yourself a high-falutin' "online journal" but you clearly have no more sense than a miscalibrated time and temperature sign, mindlessly flashing away in the dead of night.

Oh, how I've missed you!


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(©Now by DJ Birtcher Exactly As If Anyone With The Mental Capacity To Access This Page Might Actually Want To Steal A Single Word Of It)