Operation Rango: Somewhat Boring

Consider this: think of how many times I’ve made you laugh, entertained you with my music, my dancing, my videos, or even my writing or drawings. Multiply that by the number of people reading this…Is all of it marginal? I sure hope not because God knows I try to do better than that. Is all of it great? Certainly not. You would have me believe I’m doing better than average, but then again statistically 1/2 of it would be guaranteed to be average were it not for the vetting process that has lead you to read this. And still, it’s the encouragement from friends and fans that leads me to have hope, and something deeper inside of me that just makes it want to keep coming out of me.

Since when did art become a compulsion? Since the beginning of time, right? Since before OCD or mania or lithium? I am so fucked.

I’m at that impasse again, the one that made my mother so upset. The one where I don’t know what to do. I just spent 12 hours working on a video that I should have thrown in the garbage but somehow could not resist the allure of toying with it. Sex comes to mind, and it often does. You shouldn’t touch that. Don’t play with that. But it feels good, and at the end of the day some of you agree. There’s something good here. But at the risk of being a whore or labelled a sell out, I’ve got to figure out how to monetize it or it’s all going away. And I’ve got about one more week to figure it out.

No pressure, but if you think I’m fucking around you missed it when they came to turn off the electricity last time, the same day they shut off my fucking phone that I’m always losing (hint: I hate it and I don’t want to talk on the fucking phone). Getting notice at your job and getting foreclosed on in the same week? I’m sorry what were you saying, I wasn’t even paying attention. What’s on TV? We don’t have that? Why the fuck not? Boring? I guess you’re right.

Good night.


\m/ (-.-) \m/


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