"Haha. Hilarious."

So, it's possible that I've already over-sold this blog post with that title, but it is actually an homage to a friend/reader who greatly enjoys (or at least reads) the blog, and also likes to occasionally be a massive wiseguy and make pithy (and only marginally amusing) comments on my Facebook wall. In this case, I "shared" some random picture on FB that I felt was relevant to my recent interest in ridiculing the Occupy Wall Street URCHINS in that snarky, capitalist way that I have about me (For realsies, if someone could literally radiate capitalism, it would be me. Or my mom. But she does it in a way that makes everyone uncomfortable and mildly itchy. So there's that), and his comment read simply, "Haha. Hilarious."

No exclamation points. Not even a smiley face. Just periods. Who does this, I ask you??

Upon reading this seemingly UN-enthusiastic response, I spent at least AN full minute lost inside of my head, questioning my entire worldview while slowly curling into the fetal position and fighting the urge to suck my thumb or take up biting my fingernails again. Holy balls (quoth I), how could someone be so unfeeling as to post a response that would make any sane person immediately think "OMG DOES HE THINK I'M FUNNY OR IS HE BEING SARCASTIC?? AND WHERE DOES HE GET OFF BEING SARCASTIC IN MY GENERAL DIRECTION. OTHER PEOPLETHINKI'MAWESOMESOSCREWYOUBUDDY!!#@%@$"

Did I say any sane person? I may have been reaching a bit, there. That happens when you attain a degree of self-awareness that teeters just on the brink of rampant narcissism. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

In retrospect, I doubt that he was being remotely sarcastic, and I'm almost certain that I should probably just rein in the crazy just a tad and try not to fly off the handle whenever someone fails to use the proper punctuation to convey their obvious approval of all that I do or say. Then again, you people know I'm neurotic, so stop doing these things to me. It's perverse.

Yikes. I just had to get that out.

In other news, it's been a minute, so I'll catch you up on current events. This won't take long. Still bartending, still unwed (both to the everlasting shame of the Family). Moved out of my parents' house, AT.LONG.LAST. I am now living in Mid City with my friend Jamie, who I've come to realize is absolutely my heterosexual life partner and the ideal person for me to share a magnum of cheap hooch with. Jamie and I are both chronically single, wine-guzzling Cancers. This means that unless we are working, we feel little need to leave the house, and we prefer to spend our evenings on The Veranda in the company of Beaux the Tiny Yorkie, Humbert the Indifferent Fish, and Wanda the Booze-Addled Pumpkin. Did I mention that we have also named most of our household appliances at this point? We have a coffee-maker called Louis. We spend many an evening contemplating why we're both still single. Shocking, I know. I'm faintly aware that this behavior will become less and less adorably whimsical as we get older, and more of a cause for concern and institutionalization. Then again, we've both reached the ripe old age of 25 and it ain't slowin' us down yet, dagnabbit!

Which is a total lie. I'm so tired. Goodnight, cruel world!