I can’t even tell you if I’m traumatized.
Shocked, surprised, aghast.
Nah, those words are too strong.
Taken aback maybe.
It’s funny that on the heels of my Where Does Phoenixism Go When The Sun Comes Out? post the other day where I openly wondered if anyone I know reads my bog, I suddenly find 4 comments this morning from an old friend.
An old friend who is the focal point of many of my youthful (and not so youthful) chemically enhanced and legality-testing indiscretions.
In fact, I would go so far as to say that he literally “stars” in nearly all my Some Ridiculous Things I’ve Done While Drunk anecdotes. If I was getting drunk or stoned, he was there. Many times he led the way, but of course, I happily followed.
He became a respectable church man. Got married, married God, found his right-wing niche way out on the wayward fringes of the political spectrum. He stopped drinking, he stopped indulging in countless other shameful spectacles long before I ever saw fit to stop myself. Heh heh.
And now he’s returned. He’s still clean and living a respectable, well-manicured life.
Blogging surely serves some function. Not sure quite what it is yet.
Well the good news, I have a new reader.
Actually, that’s assuming a lot.
Could be his main attraction here is Phoenixism’s special brand of trainwreck appeal.
Good to talk to you again, you damned washed up lush! I look forward to all your coldly insulting comments.
You might need to say some prayers after reading through here. Do you Episcopals do the confession thing? That might be something to keep in mind.