Why I Am

So there's a lot of shenanigans going on around Chez Bang Bang lately, Reader.  Most of it isn't suitable for an Open-to-the-World blog format, which makes me have to censor myself, which I find really really really difficult to do. I pretty much roll as an open book, love me or leave me. Which, to be fair, I've had my share of folks who chose to do the leaving part, but that's okay too because Free Will. 

Now I'm not so open, and it's thwarting my creativity. I would like you to believe that most of the stories on this space are made up adventures from my tired imagination, but that would mostly be a lie. I say "mostly," Reader, so if there is something really outrageous, I still have an out to claim that's the not true part. Those really really uncomfortable things that I write about, usually pertaining to my vagina, let's pretend those are the made-up parts. You'll be happier about it, and I'm all about you. 

I don't know how to tell stories that aren't somehow grounded in my reality. 

I've been giving some thought lately as to why I put so much of myself out here to the whole wide world to learn about me, and I figured out I do it for me. My life is ridiculous and sometimes funny and sometimes sad and one hundred percent human, shortcomings and all.  Why hide from it. I like writing about the irreverent things that make up my world. Plus, it forces me to sometimes practice punctuation, so really I should be getting extra credit. Wouldn't that be nice if Life handed out extra credit, and some areas that you're really failing at could be pulled up into a passing mark by a little side project? Because I could really use that sometimes. 

This is also a good way to learn who I am, and what sort of nonsense takes up valuable space in my brain that should be used for solving world issues instead of wondering who's jizzing in my restaurant food. You can decide whether you like me or not, because after this you can't claim you don't know what you're getting into when you become part of my world. So it's all your own fault, Reader. 

Anyway. 

That wasn't the post I planned to write this morning as I sipped my coffee and got down to packing for my Wild & Wonderful West Virginia Weekend, but it's what came out of my fingers. 

Sorry it's not the normal nonsense I usually deliver. I'll get back to stories about my vagina next week.  You're welcome.