Which brings us to post 1,000

So, happy posting to me! Voila, I am celebrating the occasion: four years of blogging, 42,000+ hits, which is a lot, taking into account I only have about 20-30 regular visitors per day, stats not running along from the beginning of time. Yeap, it took me a while to understand what is what and when and how.

By the way, thank you, thank you. Feel free, dear visitor, to help yourself with some comment-cake.

For this special occasion I have prepared and illustration full of meaning and common sense. Let me enlighten you:

One can walk the dog. Anytime. Only Top Dog walks himself.
Shit and clean is key to saving Earth.
Don't be a flower on the wall, nobody will pick you.
Oh, yeah, and always have a cup of coffee in the morning.

Wanking

I have 1,000 faces to hide myself under and they are all the same thing. And taking the pictures of the 1,000 faces is a lot like wanking, after a while, when it's just a routine and you have other expectations: it's just a routine and you have other expectations.

I am calm and not missing on any social call. I am learning words like floordrobe and phrases like escape goat. Check them out in the urban dictionary.

I am currently reading Agota Kristof, an older "acquaintance" of mine. I just can't stop it. Reminds me of the times I was reading under my desk, book on my lap, ready to "loose it" the moment my mom would come to check on me. Instead of homework. Le grand cahier has, for me, a story I am planning to tell you soon.

Top Dog Down

As I was pouring water I felt so poor. The water was sparkling water, the fridge was empty, the bills unpaid. I had some money. I had more money than my average fellow citizen, in cash, but it was all meant for paying my previous debts. I felt so broke I could kill someone. It was oh yet another sunny Sunday, the spring had settled in, all was new and bright. It was so depressing I decided to stay in and feel miserable.

I managed quite well at that until Monday when I had to hit it off to work.

New post

Not much news. This Top Dog I am trying to make into a character refuses to take shape.

First Top Dog First

That would be me... as I was just wondering who is Top Dog. And sometimes I feel like I am, but most of the times I know somebody else is. I have not decided if this sucks... but I do wish I were the Top Dog, or, at least, one of them. Do what I want. It would not necessarily mean I will be carefree, but anyway more relieved.

I will keep this first entry short. And remember there is always the magic of ALT + F4, should you not like what you read. Who cares?!