Displacement

Let me just admit right up front here that I am only writing this post so that the poem won't be at the top. The photo of Lloyd on Air Force One during President Obama's recent visit to Osan is completely irrelevant to anything I'm typing right now, or anything that might or might not be residing in my head. I simply can't stand to have a terrible poem at the top of my blog. What if some fancy publisher is clicking through blogs, looking for someone to give a multi-million dollar advance to for a memoir? When I look at new blogs, I always leave immediately if there's any kind of poetry, because I hate poetry. Someone with the refined taste of a publishing house would no doubt have similar feelings.

If you are, in fact, such a reader, please be assured that there is much more than bad poetry in my repertoire. I invite you to peruse the posts listed on the upper right, or read 'My Life in Cats', which I especially like, but alas, is neglected up there on the right because it is neither particularly funny nor objectionable. Under no circumstances should you click on any of the 'Good Reads' or 'All the Latest' because all those blogs suck. Trust me, you wouldn't want to give your hard-earned cash to any of those clowns. Sure, they're funny, touching, wise, whatever. They can't hold a candle to Stories from Korea, and don't you forget it!

The rest of you might be pleased to hear that we're on the mend. Unless I just called you a clown. Sorry! Did I write that out loud? It's the sickness; I just can't control myself. Wankers. Dammit! I have to go; they're at the door with the nets again. They're always after the tortured, brilliant artists; it's so typical.