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.