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I Don't Have Time Today: Meditations of A Millennial-Aged Boomer

I love this blog.


I love the community we've built, the content we produce, the laughs, the relationships we've made.


Flappr is my thing. It's my hobby, my place to express all of the creative energy that I have pent up from doing a very not creative job every day 9-to-5. Mainly, I love writing and I love that Flappr gives me an opportunity to write and (try to) entertain all of you.


I'll do anything for your positive affirmation. And I mean ANYTHING *wink*

Sadly, I do not have time to write today.


I have to finish up a project for work, get home in time to have dinner with my wife and kids. . . I just don't have time today.


Ok, fine, I'll figure something out - maybe I'll see if I can squeeze some writing in on my phone instead taking lunch during work.


I can multitask, I'm good at that!


No, shit, I can't - I need to use my lunch hour to sign my son up for hockey, make sure my daughter has a ride home from dance class and call the washing machine repair man to make sure he's actually coming today. Banging it on the side with a hammer didn't work this time and my wife is pissssed.


*sigh* I just don't have time to write today.


Maybe I can just squeeze in a shitty blog, you know, something short and sweet about something stupid.


BOOBS! PEOPLE LOVE BOOBS!


EUREKA! Boobs!

I can just throw together some words, photos of smoking hot MILFs and top it off with some funny alliterative euphemisms!


Gargantuan Globed Goddess - that's a good one!


Perfect, I can probably finish that within an hour.


Eh . . . that feels cheap. We already do enough milker-stuff. I don't want to be a one-trick pony - believe it or not, I do care about the quality of what I write (stop laughing, you cunts).


I heard you laughing. It hurts when you laugh.

Yeah, no - it's not worth writing something if I'm going to throw together some half-assed product that doesn't really have any greater purpose.


I guess I just don't have time today.


Well, maybe I can write something later tonight? After dinner and after we put the kids to bed - I should be clear-eyed then. I can think of something clever and with purpose when I have a moment to myself!


I'll write something on hunting for a wife after you turn 30 years old and how (lol, they're going to love this . . .) you need to treat your search like an NFL General Manager in the later rounds of the draft. You know, when all of the blue-chip prospects have already been selected and you need evaluate imperfect candidates for "traits" that might translate at the next level, like the player who can't catch or jump but is still tall or can run fast.



"So what she's got stretchmarks and an eye-patch? She's also got big boobs and you think she'll be a good mother! That's basically a fifth-round grade at age 34." HAHAHAHA I crack myself up. . . . the womxn-folk are gonna haaaate that, but it will be funny.


Oh . . . but Friday night is when I spend time with my wife. And I've been swamped this week with actual work, so we haven't had much time to spend together. . . I really don't think I can give up that opportunity for my stupid little passion-blog.


"Stretchmarks and an eye-patch? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Happy wife, happy life, amirite fellas? The last thing I need right now is to find myself in the position of having to evaluate late round talent for "traits".


So no, I can't write later tonight - people don't click as much at night anyways.


I have to accept that I do not have time today.


But what about tomorrow? Maybe I can write tomorrow morning? No, No, No, I coach my son tomorrow morning. I cannot write tomorrow morning.


What about tomorrow afternoon? Nope . . . my daughter has gymnastics at 2:30 and I need to watch the baby while my wife gets her hair done. There's no time for writing tomorrow afternoon.


"I'm not skipping my appointment just so you can write about tits again."

Surely, I can fit in some time to write tomorrow night. Actually, no, I have to help my dad with his business. So that won't work either. . . maybe I should just write the boob blog after all.


*Mountainously Mammaried MILF* - damn thing basically writes itself.


Happy Friday. Cloth Off.










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