The confessional

I was reliably informed that my ode to Whitney did not go down too well, I believe the exact words were “…write another one, then I’ll read!”  At first I dismissed the man as a soulless twit in need of counselling, but then I looked at the week’s stats and I realised perhaps not.  On first glance it would appear that you buggers are interested in only 2 things, my crap dates and my friends’ troubled sex lives, but when one someone else unsuspectingly pointed out the holes in the buddy post (he’s unconvinced, we’re working it out), that got me looking at the stats in a completely different light.  The stories you like most seem to be the ones where I’m simply telling it like it is, no drum banging agendas and what not.   

To be honest, I don’t make a conscious decision on what to write about, often I sit down with a cup of tea and start typing, eventually one of the ideas I put down takes on a life of its own and next thing I know I’m on spell check.  Sometimes, I’ll like an idea but nothing I do makes it work so it ends up in the ‘why wont you work dammit?’ folder, next to the long suffering post on Heavy D.  Other times, I won’t particularly like an idea, but it bullies me into submission and finally ends up here, like sexist therapy.  And once in a (very rare) while, the story writes itself long before I sit down, as was the case with MAD.  The reason I’m telling you this?  Sometimes I get it wrong, some days it wont be your cup of tea, or mine for that matter, but on other days I hit the spot, I strike a chord no?  Unfortunately, my mind is hazy at the best of times and its worse when I actually want it to do something, so as much as I’d love to give you what you like every time I sit down, I cant, but the good thing is I’m learning as I go along, and the most important thing I’ve learnt is that you will forgive me many things for as long as I don’t try to bullshit you.  You buggers can spot my bullshit from a mile off no?

I sat down to write Wednesday’s post, but instead I’m here writing you a love letter of sorts.  I blame the rain, sudden changes in weather always get me feeling a little melancholic (see No disturb sign).  Who’d have thought the met department would actually get it right huh?  I digress…  I greatly appreciate you all stopping by each week, perhaps more than you know, it helps that most of you are comfortable enough in my house to tell me when I get it not quite right, even when you say it by saying nothing at all.  Now I could be a stubborn fool and insist on writing (what I consider) brilliant pieces on Al Green and pointy-shoed men, or I could just give you what you want.  I’m proposing a compromise, every so often I’ll tell you what’s going on in my tragic comedy of a life, and in return you’ll stick around when I choose to veer off into my own little world of randomness.  Agreed?  Good. 

I’m off to the sewer now, see you soon…