OK, it’s official.  I’m terrible at real-time online chat.  I need time to compose my thoughts before I let my fingers do the walking.  It’s more like my digits are doing the cha-cha all over the keyboard generating some sort of out-of-control dialogue.

When it comes to real-time expression in type, I have no filter in my hands.  (Hell, ask Ray and he’ll tell you my mouth has no filter either!)  I always seem to be saying all the wrong things at the wrong time creating the most socially awkward moments–which is great if you’re writing for Ben Stiller.  Sometimes I can’t believe the verbal (or textual) diarrhea that comes out of me!

It’s like Jeffrey Dahmer at a church social–pleasant but creepy.

I just know I’m going to be a really weird old man.  That’s for sure.  I just hope I can afford a live-in caretaker by then.

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