Sitting around pondering my navel

So, I am just sitting here wondering why I haven't been blogging. It's really odd to me. I was really productive there for three or four months. Suddenly, I really don't feel like it. How can you go from obsession to apathy in a period of one week? I do feel liberated from the constant need to check my stats every hour ... okay, every half-hour. Nor do I feel the deep misery caused by the lack of traffic. Really, why can’t people see how incredibly talented I am? But I digress. As I was saying, I have been wracking my brains for weeks trying to sort out this mystery - so maybe I am exaggerating a bit, but that's not the point of this story. The point is I think I figured it out. It was Cheesmo! That's right. It's all Cheesmo's fault. I had to take a little trip down to Hot-lanta a few weeks ago. Had a little business, you know. There I was, driving down the road heading to see an old acquaintance, Herr Zeitzinjammer, from my days across the pond. That's right, I did a gig in Europe - told you I was "colorful". Haven’t seen him since my last trip to the ATL in August of ’05. Trust me, the dude’s a hoot and I always look forward to seeing him. Little did I know, my evening was about to be ruined. Anyway, I driving down the road and hear the familiar strains of the opening "Dazed and Confused". In most instances when I hear the tune, it brings me a great deal of pleasure since it happens to rotate with two others as my favorite song. Instantly, I reached to turn down the radio and proceeded to set about the nearly impossible task of locating my cell phone from the bowels of the rental car. I know what you are thinking - "Hey rebel, aren't you a little old for a Led Zeppelin ring-tone?" - uh, simply put - not just no, but hell no. Jimmy is my MAN (please refer to my previous posts about people I admire). Suddenly, I realized where my phone was hiding. Quickly, I fetched my moto from my pocket and flipped it open an instant before it rolled to voicemail. "Eyeball." I barked. "Reb?" Cheesmo replied. "It's the Cheese." Sidebar: His voice really does appear in bold when he says it. "I know your raspy ass voice." I said curtly, silently cursing myself for not checking my caller ID. "What do you want?" "Been to the site." He sneered and then paused. "And?" I asked timidly not really wanting to subject myself to another one of his impolite ramblings. "All you talk about is traffic, traffic, traffic." He continued. "Sup with that? Write sumpin' funny, bitch." Of course, I hung up. I always hang up on Cheesmo, he's such a prick. I mean, can you believe he actually said that to me? Can you imagine putting up with such a brutal outburst from some one that is purportedly a friend? Not only were his stinging ramblings cruel, but he happened to be right. He is always right. That is what makes him so unbearably difficult to talk to. Finally, I am over this vicious attack from my arch-nemesis and I am prepared to rejoin the ranks of the blogosphere. Fear not my peeps, I have returned. I am good-looking, smart and dog-gone-it, people like my writing. More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.