The Returnining of the Next Boyfriend
So you think you're idling your time away, sending useless blog transmissions into the ever-expanding void of the interweb and myspacetopia. nothing of high import is being conveyed, but that niggling voice in your inner ear that pleads with you to make some sort of nonsensical contribution to the world of words is temporarily quieted with every post, and you can scroll back through said posts a year later and chuckle, usually at your own delusions. but you're in your own little boat, paddling contentedly along, and you think "its okay, because no one is reading this anyways". and everything is fine.
until, that is, you blog-break up with your phantom Next Boyfriend. And people are concerned .Upset enough to call, even, and complain.
so, whomever is reading this (is it only you, tim?), I will be getting back to getting back together with My Next Boyfriend shortly.
(which is, if taken out of context, a truly bizarre and fucked concept, which could only exist in the vaccum of interspace. swwwweeet.)
Count your lucky stars, Next Boyfriend. Because we were totes through. I was on my way to Next Next Boyfriend, otherwise known as ReBound Boyfriend, less commonly called Back Up Boyfriend, which is just a guy you keep around as a friend in the off chance you might just be that drunk and lonely and sad and lazy enough someday, and you want to be prepared for that occasion.