Desservo #10: The Way of Things, 2002 - and Where I Fit In

Well, well, well. I have a few things to admit, a few things to deny, and many things to talk about. So sit tight, and grab the popcorn, buttercup. You're gonna need it.

Vomit God is no more. His seat in the great temple of Mount Olympus is now vacant. Who will come forward to claim his soiled throne? Since we are all equally terrible writers, it appears to be anyone's game. So let's play ball. No heart attacks.

Moving on, I must tell you, that night after night, day after day, I cower in a dark corner in shame. I feed on cockroaches and whatever else happens to scurry across the floorboard within arms' reach of me. I beat myself with a plastic whiffle -ball bat in an attempt at self-punishment. It works. I live in shame and utter guilt. Why? I hate my articles. Some I think are okay, but others I completely wash my hands of. To repay my debt to society, I warn you to stay away from the following articles from hereon in:

1. I Wish I Was a Robot Sometimes.

2. Rancho San Diego - A Reflection

3. Confessions of a Delivery Boy


Why, you ask? Well, first of all, they suck. Hard. Secondly, all three speak of something that some reader in Podunk, Pennsylvania won't know of or give a shit about. A little town we all here at the WOV grew up in. Yeah, it's an oddball little place in suburban San Diego, but who gives a shit?

You're probably wondering why I hate my own work so. And if I hate it, why did I write it and then allow it to be posted? Well, I don't know. Maybe I was in it for the money -- which is sad, because I don't get paid jack shit for my hard work here. But honestly, sometimes you shit gold, but most of the time you shit....well, shit. And I guess that's the way of it. So let's fire up the crematorium on that subject.

Moving on to my last subject, I must say that I seek to carve a better place for myself here at the WOV -- crawl in to a better niche. Maybe I can't be King of the Hill, but certainly I can climb to the top of my own hill. I know I didn't write a damn word over the hellish Christmas season. And I know the world didn't exactly miss my work, but let's just say I was "pre-occupied" at the time. And it has been a while since I've written a "real" article. My eulogy for Dave "Look at me and gain Five Pounds" Thomas of Wendy's, I considered just that; a Eulogy. And I also don't consider this piece to be a real "article." So I report to you with confidence that I am coming back in full force, very soon. I don't seek to fill Vomit God's shoes, because god damnit, there's a new pair of boots in town.

And they belong to the Lone Wolf known as...Desservo.

Burn in Hell,
-D