I Couldn't Give a Flying Monkey's Ass About "Rules"

So I just deleted a post, the one I wrote earlier today titled "When I Call You Baby, I Mean That Literally."



It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine.



I stick my tongue out to those who scoff at bloggers deleting posts. I pull down my pants and moon them, and I pick my nose and pretend like I'm putting boogers in their coffee. That's how much I care about their "rules."



I wrote "When I Call You Baby..." because I had to. For mental health reasons. It was a beautiful post, sad and angsty and full of woe. It was a shining example of utter egotism and blatant self-worship; it was horrific, humanistic, spiritual, and naked as naked gets. It also was disturbing as hell, and I realize that. Apologies to anyone who happened to accidentally witness my twentieth nervous breakdown.



But, it had to be written. And now I am clean. So bye bye post -- you served your purpose well, but are no longer needed. Have a lovely trip into the wild blue ether.



And to you Blog People, whoever you are with your pod-like personas and silly rules, you self-appointed kings and queens of Blogland: Bite it.