Hopefully, A Cure for Peaking

**You know how it goes: You were once the coolest Queen of your Hill bar none. And then you peaked for some reason that's totally unknown to your person. I'm having none of that, so I'm writing this now before I totally lose my shine.

I don't want to forget what made me Queen of my Shit Hill in the first place.

1. I play pool because I love it. Not only because I'm good at it, or at least I used to, but because it brings me close, closer to that group of inbreeds I love hanging out with.
- Last time I played was three months ago as of the writing of this post.

2. I have this funny network of fags that has always been dear to me all throughout.
-Last time I saw them was three weeks ago.

3. I have this retard sounding laugh, guttural and unfailingly characteristic.
-Last time I did was a week ago, and I really need a good laugh just about now.

4. I love having sex. And sometimes when I'm mighty drunk, I don't mind if its random.
-Last time I got laid real good, underscore real, was November 2008.

5. I enjoy watching horror movies. The messier the better.
-Last time I did was a week ago, and it bored me to the core.

6. I write as an outlet. And I have this blog for personal, therapeutic reasons.
-I'm littering it now with the usual dull drivel just to appear updated. The last post that meant something to me was this post.

7. I like the people I work with.
-And I'm developing some untoward reservations for no valid reason or what have you.

8. I foulmouth with a PhD.
-And I'm becoming habitually untalkative offline. That doesn't help the cursing none.

9. I used to do random acts of daring stupid just for kicks.
-And I'm beginning to bore myself most often these days.

I'll stop here before I realize I don't like what I am now. Something has changed along the way, and I have a lot of catching up to do. Like that Angela Basset film, I need to get my groove back.

Resets Please

I'm now looking for THE ONE HTML code for putting a panic button on my blog's sidebar. With a push, that golden button wil go ahead and hide all of my unbecoming posts with their horny details. Of course, hide IS the operative term, because a fault finding fool like myself needs to go over the things I wrote for a number of foolish, fault finding reasons.

I can be too wordy to a fault; the terms I choose to string together often paint a messy sketch. And there are ideas that do nothing to redeem the collapse that is my person. It's bad enough that I'm gay by default, but to be a wordy attention-whore with an unprecedented sense of self-promotion is something different. That leads to very unlikely ideas. But the problem is I kind of posted some of those ideas. Some of them had comments, too. And I have to do something about that because my mom is reading my blog now.

Ergo the panic button.