Hello all that remembers me…and missed me.
The majority of “coming back” posts have some long drawn out apology about life being busy, and so on. No shit.
I am taking a year off from apologizing. Even if I voted for Trump I wouldn’t apologize.
This ignorant mofo…
So what happened, Ridge?
Do you really care, man.
What have you been up to?
I’ve been living in the moment. It is why when you walk down the street there is all this chalk writing on the concrete. I’ve been writing eulogies at the end of every block—each street is new to me.
Are you back for good?
There is no such thing.
We missed you Ridge. Can you tell us a story.
I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I have this thing with stepping on cracks on the sidewalk. I must step over them, or move around them. I have a superstitious fear that if I step on a crack that I will never find my true love. One day I met this girl. I fell in love with this girl. She fell in love with me. It was blissful. As these things go, she started to irritate me. So I broke it off with her. Some days went by, and of course, I realized what I was missing. I wanted her back. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. She was the One. I stalked her. I approached her as she was coming out of work to tell her I was sorry, and I wanted her back, and how much I was in love with her. She was still hurt. The pain was on her face. She ran down the street crying. Her tears were so heavy, each one that dropped caused micro-earthquakes on the street.
Happy Valentines day…
Go kiss, with tongue…
I’ll be in touch.