But What Does This All Mean?


I very rarely comment on much of anything on the internet simply because I don’t want my words misunderstood, misconstrued, or quoted out of context. Once we push the “publish” button there is very little we can do. Well, one or two of y’all have noticed that I had been on a blogging break for the last few months. The biggest question is why I’ve been laying low. It’s a damn fine question and I might even answer it if I get around to it. However, just because I’ve not been posting didn’t mean my blog became an unvisited ghost town, in fact just the opposite has been happening, hell there are more actual visitors when I don’t write anything. Statistically speaking I could say the visits were misclicks or accidental landings based on one’s Google search results, but a closer analysis would go on to prove that theory wrong. Come to find out, a link for my blog can be found on over 300 blogs out there in never never land, so I can chalk up 1/3 of my visitors to blatant curiousness alone. I was once told, long ago in my blogging follies that having a blog names which invokes emotion or a curious mind to click the link is 90% of the battle to get someone, anyone to visit. Then, 8% is blog layout, colors, and overall theme. The last 2% is the content of the blog. I always remembered that people were not going to visit my blog because of my brilliant writing skills since I lack a true ability to write anything worthy reading, mostly skimming at most, who wants to read blah blah blah anyway. We are all guilty of it, even me, so I expect to be treated the same. But then again, there are the dedicated few, who feel inclined to hang on every word of everything they read everywhere. Of course, my favorite people on the planet are the grammar Nazis who seem to have nothing better to do than tell me if I used there or their or they’re in the proper way. Fuck it, it’s my blog, I will misuse grammar in any way I see fit. All I have for the grammar psycho Nazis is a big hug while I whisper fuck you in your ear with a wet tongue kiss. But, I digress, because who cares, really? Doesn’t all grammar go to die on the internet anyways? Exactly. The transmission of information is how we humans have evolved to communicate, yes I said evolve, we have evolved, suck it up princess, and one day we might even get it right. Even though I may not have been “home”, the porch light has remained on, and my email box has remained open. I say that, Google alerted me the other day that I had 2,389 messages and 46,987 spam messages waiting in my inbox. Where in reality I had only 913 messages and 48,463 spam messages after closer review and better filtering. The email set forth to collect messages from this blog also is the dumpbox for Pinterest, Google+, Facebook, and Blogcatalog, so I get “alerts” of activity from those sites. But, my blog generates 95% of all the messages received in one way or another. If your email hit the spam folder through the email filter I will never see it as I don’t look through that folder, ever. The numbers mentioned above were for a 90 day period, so needless to say my email is on quite a few mass email lists to say the very least.

But, Scorp, why are we here today, reading these words, scanning ahead looking for some reality to grasp upon, or trying to make sense of all of this mess? Why, indeed. Well, seems that about 1/3 of my content is what other people are writing. How so? Either through emails commenting or people sending me information to write about. In the past I had a pretty active section called The Magic Weekend and Scorpion Sting’s Bartender Stories. I didn’t realize when I quit the bartending business that it wouldn’t quit me, I really thought it would fade into the darkness of the night, like watching a stripper walk off the stage after her final dance, hoping for one more glimpse. In the end, over the months, it appeared that the two worlds melded together, friends of friends of friends began telling me their stories, looking to have it posted on my blog. Why? Fame and fortune? Not hardly. I began to ask myself why I even take the time to blog any more, and it does take time, all my posts are done from my Android phone, so long posts become a tedious time consuming process, and to tell y’all the truth, I began to ask myself why do I torture myself, why do I attempt to write, because I’m no writer. I’m a hack at best. But I do like telling stories, stories about real people, and stories about how people’s life have had an impact on them personally. Granted, as it would be, most of the stories seem to be of a certain tone or nature, but that is the direction it went. Why? Those are the stories I get, people don’t write me about walking their dog or wiping the baby’s but after a power shit, they write stories that they cant even tell as secrets to their bff, they like being anonymous, they like the idea that they can trust me not to give away their identities. Sometimes, I fell like the catholic priest hearing confidential confessions. Damn, I bet those old farts that have been around for decades have some stories to tell, I wonder if some of them have a blog they write to so they can get everyone else’s sins off their chest. I’ve been accused, more than once, that I’m an imposter, a poser, that I was a person of the cloth with a really, really, dark side that needs an output of sorts. That’s so far off that it truly humors the shit out of me, almost into tears. But, what if that was my angle? What if I was a sheep in wolves clothing? That does add an interesting twist to things, to say the least. All I can say is I’m not in any way involved with any religion or church or cult. I’m just me, just an average guy who lives his life the average way, and I use this blog as my vent to sometime scream at the world. If I went unheard it would not hurt my feelings, if only I read my dribblings I could still die today a happy man. But, some of y’all do read my blog, some of y’all take what is written here way to fucking serious.

Which reminds me, in my last post I was asked why I spoke negatively of the lesbian lifestyle and the recreational use of social drugs. First, I didn’t know I did, because I don’t care, and if that is what y’all consider harsh then there are some nappy-wipes near the exit to wipe your tears. I live my own lifestyle, one that I judge regularly because it needs judgment since I don’t live a perfect life in my own opinion. I hear some of y’all do, and I clap for you each individually. Over the last few months I have had the opportunity to review quite a bit, I questioned if I should just chuck this blog in the shit bucket and call it even. Just pull the plug on all of them. Then, I wanted to just change the name of my blog, give it a different perspective, change up the game a little, and then I just dismissed the foolishness. But who needs a clean slate, who needs that bullshit anyway? Do y’all know if I started writing today, right now, all The Magic Weekend stories in my inbox, I would have to write 500 plus rather lengthy entries, and those are just the ones with pictures attached. I think my laziness is driven by the fear of the challenge. I have considered taking two people in The Scorpion Army up on their offer of writing them all for me. I think they would have no problem being committed to the task, and I have full confidence that they would blow everyone’s ass a way with their story telling. But, I don’t generally farm out my work and to tell y’all the truth, I’m not ready to start today. I’m trying to get back in the saddle, I think a little blogging burn out does the soul good. Before I move on, I just want to say that even though I might be rotten to the core, I mean what I say, I really don’t have a problem with anybody’s lifestyle, unless you are a fucking pedophile, then you just need to crawl into your hole and die. Oh, you fucks from Westboro Baptist Church can join the pedophile in his hole because you all are a bunch of sick fucks who deserve one another. I try not to hate people or groups of people, but you sick fucks and my ex-wife are all in a world of your own.

Ooh, lets talk about real mail for a moment, since I have a real mail dilemma so to say. I’ve mentioned once or twice that I stay as far in the fuck way out of my ex-wife’s life as humanly possible, as I don’t need her drams or bullshit in my own life. Life is well living like this. Until yesterday, yesterday I get a letter with her name on it but my address. Hmm, it sparked a giant, long drawn out whhhhaaaaattttt thhhhhheeeeeeee fuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! After the initial shell shock, it caught my eye it was the Veteran’s Affairs office, repeat WTF! What kind of fuckery is a foot? As temped as I was to just run the un-opened letter through my shredder, I paused for a few moments. I did, however, text my daughter and ask her why she thought her mother was receiving mail at my house, I included a picture of the letter so she knew I wasn’t pulling her leg. The initial reply was “WTF DAD?” Exactly, exactly. It is very disturbing. I wanted to call her darling mother but really didn’t want to talk directly to her or her voicemail, so I sent my daughter in to do the dirty work for me, actually, she asked if she should ask, so I told her sure. Her mother’s only reply was she has no clue, no shit, nothing’s changed, nothing will ever change in that regard to her. She claims cluelessness, yet doesn’t want me to open it to solve the mystery, so yes I think she is hiding something because she isn’t as slick as she thinks. She requested I send it to my daughter to be forwarded to her. I sent it back to the VA, a return to sender wrong address message written across the front of it, this morning. The twisted cunt can contact the VA and correct her bullshit on her own free time and on her dime, I have done the right thing, I sent it back because she doesn’t live at my address. My curiosity has been getting the best of me, it was a pretty thick envelope. But, knowing my luck, if I opened it she would get Johnny Law in my ass and who needs that shit at this stage in my life. Drama is not my forte, I don’t need my own, much less some cunt who wishes I was dead. I don’t wish her to be dead, just for her to forget my existence and just move on. Whatever. My eldest daughter, turning 25 later this year, and I had an actual telephone conversation last night, she brought up her mother and asked if I were ready to discuss our falling out with her yet. Nope. I left it where it always has been, your mother cheated on me and felt no remorse, in fact she could never honestly tell me she was sorry or that she wanted to remain married. So be it, and we set the divorce in motion. Then, she turned into a cunt, which is the category she has remained since 1999. But enough about the bleeding cunts in my life.

I appreciate the daily visitors from around the world that visit my blog every day, 2,000+ on a daily basis. I still don’t know what it is y’all are all looking for. Unless its boobs, boobs we have. But, be careful, I will warn you now, if you look at the boobs at work your boss will not be happy with you. But that isn’t here on my main blog anyways, that gets its own set of visitors daily, bobs and tattoos are the perfect combination. Is there anything else? I mean, I must admit, I bounce around quite a bit, having no direction, no theme as it were, tends to be the best direction I’ve ever gone doing this blogging shit. A person visiting here can see an assload of stuff, I’m not justifying the lack of complexity, I’m just acknowledging that writing about only one or two things becomes boring. Who needs more boring in their lives? Not me. I did do allot of thinking while I wasn’t posting here, mostly about the very real chance that I was so burnt out with it all that I was ready to wave the white flag to surrender. But then what would I do? Really, what would I do? Spending time with my family is what keeps me away from here, there is nothing more important to me than spending time with them, as much time as possible. This blog is my hobby, not my daily life. I’m not involved in social media except to promote posts. But, due to this blog and social media I have made some friends, not “friends”, but friends I talk or text with, have meaningful conversations with, and value their friendship. Beyond that, the internet gets pretty boring to me. But, because of the internet, I can talk with all of y’all, tell my stories to y’all, get opinions from y’all, and for the most part just take a break from the real world. So, to finish off this post I would like to answer some questions I have been getting in the email and then we can close this post and y’all can get back to your lives.

01) No, I’m not dead.

02) No, I haven’t been on vacation.

03) Yes, I have been reading my emails & comments.

04) No, I don’t typically reply to emails or comments, its rare if I do.

05) Yes, keep sending in stories.

06) Yes, naked pictures are fine, I can edit them before posting.

07) Yes, I will be having more contests with no prizes in the near future.

08) Yes, I fucking know other words besides fuck.

09) No, your religion doesn’t bother me.

10) No, your sexual orientation doesn’t matter to me.

11) No, the color of your skin isn’t the issue.

12) Yes, there is fuckery in the mist.

13) Yes, bambi on the smoker really does taste good.

14) No, I’ve never been institutionalized.

15) No, I do not suffer from PTSD.

16) Yes, I once wanted to be a catholic priest.

17) No, I wouldn’t return to how life was “before”.

18) Yes, eventually I will get caught up.

19) No, I haven’t quit smoking yet.

20) Yes, my wife has tattoos.

Didn’t see your question answered? Maybe next time. But not now, its time to draw this mess of a post to a close. If I don’t close it then it could go on for ever, and nobody wants to see that shit do they. But, I will return, like a rash with no cure, because I need to do a post about some people with serious butt-hurt real soon. Yes, the haters are going to make another appearance. That is the only teaser y’all get. Go forth now and enjoy the rest of your Cinco de Mayo or for the rest of us, the 5th of May. Remember boys and girls to eat it every day!

Please take time to let The Sting Of The Scorpion know what you are thinking.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s