Soy Joy is that pathetic?

Soy Joy. Pathetic?

Now you all know my blog. All.... mmmm... what?.... 5 or 6 of you?

You know where I'm coming from (at least as much as I do when I write shit).
Silly, hopefully sometimes insightful stuff; random topics; unedited ramblings; colorful venting; delightfully mocking; even sometimes joyfully endearing (though at the moment that makes me want to hock a huge one in some hidden area of my house... no... Strike that... makes me want to hock a huge one in some hidden area in someone else's house of whom I am often prompted to be a fake-ass-mutha-fucka like most of us all have to be at one time or another.

Occasionally I look to see how many readers take a hit on my profile (figuring that a small percentage of those hits actually read my brain effluence).

So I did notice that one of the largest hit jumps (coinciding with my sincere smear of SEARS some time back) was for the latest slam-DUNK of that pathetic piece of cardboard poo-poo: SOY JOY!

With much glee I headed out back, taking with me a nice 2002 California wine, and called out the boys; trying to see if they may have been a part of the antic-profile-hits I received.

Jose was there, tenderly embracing Billy Zane (more to keep Billy from taking off on one of his hopping, hooping, hooting rampages he is known for around our town these days). Jose claimed Billy hadn't been near any of the computers in weeks. Billy's wide-eyed stare seemed to confirm this. He then whispered into Jose's ear at which point Jose let him go. Billy jumped in the air several feet to the side, but still in the bushes. He quickly glanced back and forth, dropped his pants, and while laughing with glee, urinated high into the air with a child-like, Christmas morning smile. There was happiness I needn't probe.

Muddy Waters, new to our crew, sat with purpose; strumming hypnotic alien tunes and sipping on Ancient Age. The look on his face made it clear that the answers I was in search of did not remotely include him.

Morgan Freeman gazed at me with contempt. He was annoyed to be called out for such an inquiry; especially because it is only his voice that remains an integral part of the back yard crew. I waited for his explanation, but like Muddy, his eyes told the story. They then panned over to Muddy. Soon there were ancient eyes, Ancient Age and Alien rhythms clouding the neighborhood.

I already checked on Micheal, who had been hanging out with Trevor and Lucas the past few weeks, working on some music; so I knew he was good.

This MUST mean... that.... (now laughing uncontrollably) ... that.... someone from the POO POO SOY JOY POO POO COMPANY (or agent thereof)... is reading The Realm Of Darkgarden!!!!

(I am now going to launch into a completely pathetic and loud period of laughing, spitting, farting, more laughing, slapping the backs of the backyard crew, more spitting and laughing, a fart or two more, more laughing and .. OH... a kick to one of the cats!!! SWEET!!!.. and then more laughing and spitting....)

This is just so awesome!!!!

There is sadness in this all:

I am of the realization that to get the most attention, you need negative related shock.

That, I sincerely feel, is sad.

... and I leave you with that.