We had just gotten our relationship back on track. There were some posts, a few laughs. I talked about writing more posts, and then… I went out for cigarettes and just didn’t come back.
The other bloggers keep telling you I’m a deadbeat who just can’t keep it together long enough to give you what you deserve. But you and I know better, don’t we?
Don’t we, kid?
WELL, DON’T WE?
Hey look– a David Carradine trading card:
It came with my cigarettes!
Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. The point I am trying to make is this: I’m going to try and be a better blogger to you. I’m really going to try and be there for you, kid. Maybe not every day, but the important ones. Like, the ones where I’m not busy, and my cooler, more exciting friends aren’t asking me to go drink with them. And your birthday, if I can remember it. You know, that kind of crap.
We’re already doing better, aren’t we? Look, I’m writing you a nice, fun little post, nothing too heavy. Just easing you back in, since I’m sure I’m probably the last person you want to hear from right now. I know I’d be mad if I were you. I mean, I wouldn’t have that horrible, ugly scowl on my face, but, we can’t all have my fantastic jawline. (Editor’s note: What the fuck is happening? Who is writing this? Bartles AND Jaymes?)
Next time, we’ll get into what I’ve been doing in the months since I’ve been away. I promise, you’re really going to want to hear all about my adventures. (Editor’s note: That is doubtful.)
Alright, kid. Chin up. I’ll be back soon. Oh, and by the way, here’s the five bucks back you lent me for that six pack of Zima. Thanks a million.
My! what a handsome mullet. Welcome back, Coughy.