Wednesday, June 04, 2008

High Post 4

So, once again, we here at Mik Awake: Unusually Tired are all high again. Gun smoke, gun smoke. Biggie Smalls for mayor, the rap slayer, the hooker lay-er, the muthafucka say your prayers. Woooo! Hot shit, hot shit! That picture on the left is what happened when I did a search on "High Post 4." If you don't know about this series on this blog, muthafucka, you better ask somebody, baby BABY. Why am I channeling my inner Christopher Wallace right now...?

Anyway, by "we all are high" I mean only me. Mik. See, that's me over there on your right, pretending to sleep. I write the stuff that goes on this blog, because that's what blogs are about. They're about writing in a journal that you know people are going to read. See that picture there. I took that picture with the built-in camera on my Macbook. I wasn't high when I took it, nor asleep. I was bored and decided to beef up my "About Me" section on the site with some slick shit. But now every time I look at that "About Me" section, I contemplate deleting the shitty bio (notice the egregious lack of print publications!) and taking the picture down. I don't know why. I guess in light of all this over-sharing Emily Gould New York Times Magazine bullshit, which, by the way, has managed to piss off every single literary yuppie hipster media person in New York City.

What was I saying? I forget, and I'm too lazy right now to go back and find the stream of thought that started this post in the first place. I guess I was talking about blogs. Blogs are cool. I have a blog.

This is me writing in my blog.

...

Oh, shit! That gives me a good idea for a blog. How about if you wrote a blog and you called it "The Most Meta- Blog Ever"? And all of the posts were just you, the blogger, blogging about blogging. Like you just kept writing "Here I am, clacking away at my blog. The fan is running. It is Wednesday night at 11pm. I am blogging." You could describe the shit around your desk when you're blogging. In my case, we have a modern-looking black desk lamp, a dry cleaning ticket, a bill from a bar that overcharged me $8 on my debit card. Which reminds me, I need to follow up on that. On the other side of my desk is a set of joke teeth, a stapler, some Liquid Paper, and this brochure from a French lady who, a few months ago, invited me to attend one of her "Naturopathic Methods" sessions for my dry skin. I keep telling myself I'll go one day. But who knows? Maybe.

...

What was I saying?

Oh, yeah. The blog about blogging. Yeah, someone definitely needs to run with that idea...Catch, Internet! I've just thrown you a goldmine. Muhahahaha!

I don't know why I just laughed like that. It's probably because I'm really stoned right now. On a wet Wednesday night. No Homo.

...

I've been saying that a lot lately. "No Homo," I mean. I'm fascinated by the whole "No Homo" thing in hip-hop. Everyone's gut reaction is to think that it's just your everyday average hip-hop homophobia, but I think the exact opposite. Think about the circumstances during which you're supposed to say "No Homo." You're only supposed to say it if you have a gay thought. It's like the murderer who says "I didn't kill him" before anyone has charged him with a crime. It's like a kid yelling "Not it!" right after he's been tagged. Think about how awkward it would be to bump into a friend on the street and be like, "Hey, man. Long time no see. Do you want to grab a drink? (Beat) No homo." If you said that, your friend would think you were gay.

But in all honesty, what heterosexual man doesn't have the occasional gay thought? Right, fellas. Am I right? Fellas?

...

Hmm, I wonder if I'll wake up tomorrow morning and delete this. No Homo.

Phew, that was close. I was almost gay for a second. Good thing I said "No homo."

Seriously though: no homo.

5 comments:

Bryan said...

Who's the one you call Mr. Macho? The Head Hancho?

Bryan said...

No homo.

Bryan said...

Also, to be fair while I'm a bit more level-headed myself, the Emily Gould article pissed off every person in New York, to be accurate, and probably some in New Jersey as well.

Mik A. said...

Yeah. Most people in NJ can't read.

redrumk said...

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