I'm sick right now.
I've hid this secret from nobody.
Actually, I've been very public with my current state of less than well:
My head hurts and my nose is quite fucking stuffy right now. Many of you might even call me a regular fucking hero for blogging through such an affliction - I'm not willing to go there myself, I'll let the community decide.
This isn't my first brush with sickness, in fact, as a man of 30-odd years, I've been sick multiple times and (not to brag) each time I've found myself getting well again.
This INCLUDES a brush with the dreaded VYRUS. Yeah, I beat that too.
Do I dare use sickness as an excuse to not provide you with free content? No, not even for a second, you worthless ingrates.
Being sick isn't an excuse, not when you care about something - even if that thing (Flappr) is basically pointless drivel.
The content machine demands a sacrifice and so here I am, delivering to you. . . something.
Actually, I don't know where I am going with this blog.
Hmmm. . . . I just kind of started writing and hoped that an idea would come to me, but here I am . . . just kind of writing and an idea has yet to reveal itself to me.
I'm sure one will eventually. You can say many things about me (most of you do on a daily basis), but you have to admit, I'm at least somewhat clever when it comes to delivering an entertaining thought, concept, blog or erstwhile meme.
I made this while SICK!!!! YOU'RE WELCOME!!!
Boobs?! Nah. . . it's not Friday, yet.
Politics?! I mean, I guess. . . but that's also kind of boring.
Movies?! Ehhh. . . that's Wesley Kushner's beat now.
Alright, you ingrates, here is what I'm going to do, something I rarely do - a peek inside my personal life. More precisely, I'm going to share with you an interaction I had with my not-yet-school-aged son. . . let's call him "Bart Jr." for the purposes of this story.
So this story dates back to a few weeks ago when we found a tick crawling on the neck of Bart Jr.'s sister. We quickly yanked it off and explained that ticks can carry diseases and we need to keep an eye out for them so they don't bite us and make us sick.
It was normal, run of the mill Dad shit. Ticks BAD! DON'T LET TICKS BITE YOU!
Fast forward a week or so and Bart Jr., being a thoughtful little bastard (not literal), dropped this bomb on me: "Dad, if ticks are bad, why did God make ticks?"
It was one of those moments that stopped me in my tracks for a minute. You know, one of those wow, he's really growing up and starting to question the world around him type of deals.
At first I wanted to respond with "don't worry about that, God works in mysterious ways", but I felt like it was a fair question that deserved a fair and thought out response.
So I told him what I knew - that ticks are creepy fucking bloodsuckers that want to kill him with Lyme Disease and that God has a real sick fucking sense of humor sometimes.
I kid. I kid.
What I really told him was that God has a plan for everything and that ticks, while gross, serve as food for a lot of animals. So even the smallest, most disgusting, things you see serve some purpose in the grander scheme of life on this planet.
I don't know if any of that clicked for him, but moments like these are among the coolest of parenthood. Seeing your child take a developmental step, examine their surroundings and inquire about them through the prism of their world view - it's just awesome.
Why did God make ticks? Such a simple, beautiful question. The type of question that makes you love life, even if that life includes small parasitic insects that want to suck your blood and kill you with Lyme Disease.
Anyways, that's all I got for you today.
Happy Thursday and God Bless America.