Monday, September 25, 2006


You know what's ironic? I've spent the last seven years of my sexually active adult life caving into the advances of stupid men. I drop a few shots, giggle some and rescind all defensive cover with the ever desperate and lazy "go on! stick it in!"

Now... Now I am desperate for one man, and a small crew of underpaid, mildly competent medical professionals to fucking "TAKE IT OUT!" I want to get my goddamned appendix removed. According to a young "Dr. Arian" type surgical resident at St. Vincent's Medical Center, the fucker nearly killed me.

[I failed to finish this post... I suppose that's how much anguish I endured.]

Friday, September 01, 2006


So, before I even begin to beat dead horses and rage on about topics no one really cares about... I wanted any readers to know that I've never been a big fan of "the blogging". Rather, I beleive blogging yeilds a very specific purpose to the online community. The Internet serves us as a virtual wasteland, filled with sordid details only the desperately curious should seek out. Once the information highway full of seemingly practical resources, it's now overrun with ineffectual subject matter that corrodes our intelligence. Blogging offers an outlet for individuals, moreover encourages them, to become ranting, frothing at the mouth, idiots.

And I'm sorry good friend, but if you have a blog of your own, I probably won't read it on a regular basis. So please, for the love of all that's good in this world, don't send me links to your blog and say "Hey! Read my blog! I'm a blogger! I'm with it!" 'cause I won't care. If you're my friend of many years and you have some personal matter you want to discuss with someone who cares about you... CALL ME. Telecommunications have progressed beyond the means of audiotape filed answering machines and email. I'd be more than happy to arrange a time to meet with you and chat about current affairs- much like our ancestors once did.

It ails me when I run into someone I love on the street and I ask them how they're doing and they then reply "Oh my God Rosie! So much! So busy! Don' t have time- read my blog and you'll totally know why I'm so crazy these days!"

So I go home... I log on... I weed through contact information to get the link to their blog... then I'm forced peruse through volumes and volumes of commentary about their cat Nipsy and recipes for "THE BEST 'DEATH BY CHOCOLATE', like EVER!" It takes me hours to finally realize... this individual has nothing going on in their life. Why? It's so sad. It's as though they died. I become overwhelmed with moroseness and think to myself, "but, I just saw them the other day? How could this happen?" If I were offered funding to develop a PSA regarding the subject, by God I would.

So why start a blog Rosie? And what's with the stick up your ass?

Well friend, I was recently released form the hospital pending the rupture of my appendix and I'm now laid up in Long Island, recuperating and prepping for surgery. Please don't be bowled over by my fabulousness. Since I'm slowly and surely loosing my mind in the confines of suburbia…
I’ve decided to use the Internet as my outlet- as the last vast resource attainable to me to share about my life and stay in contact with friends. I plan to offer up details about my progress, regress, and the events that brought me to my current situation. Simply put friends, for the next two months I have NO LIFE. The time for “the blogging” is upon me.