....six months later.

Dearest blog,
I promise I haven't forgotten about you. There have just been things that I have determined to be more important. That seems to be a theme in my life. I'm constantly putting things (defined as: friends, acquaintances, lovers, jobs, books, games, music, vacuuming, laundry, and the cat) ahead of myself. Therefore, I cry, "Enough!" I am more important than anyone or anything! At least to myself. After all, without me, does the universe even exist? I don't care.

Yes, I think tangentially.

Back to the beginning. I moved to Florida. Welcome to where ever you are, even if it sucks big, fat, donkey dick. That's right. Third post and I've already dropped the donkey dick.
There is a point to the equine phallus reference, though. First, Florida is extremely phallic. If you don't know what Florida looks like, find an atlas. You'll see. Second, it seems that everyone here is obsessed with the ol' wang. Not mine, in particular, but a lot of the people here seem to think that displaying their metaphorical schlong or schlong-receptacle is the most important thing in the world. The younger set, which I know better, struts and preens their plumage in the most simplistic of fashions. Literally: what you see is what you get. These people have forged their way through undergrad and/or postgrad to boldly delve into the hot jobs market of South Florida. Flush with their success in various high-falutin' schools around the country, they believe the world is their playtoy. Yet they still can't have the most basic of conversations that don't involve the most petty of arguments.
Maybe I'm looking in the wrong places. Maybe I'm being too judgemental. I have found a couple of people in these parts that are really, really cool. Of course, when I look at the people I'm friends with from Minneapolis, I have to admit that they are ones in several million as well.