The quandary of an unsocial socialite

The quandary of an unsocial socialite Am I? Famous- debatable Introverted-yes Narcissist- no Crazy- most likely Unstable- possibly Frat boy- in some ways Insecure- usually Knowledgeable- in only a few subjects I’m not typical as fame has not changed me, probably because I don’t see myself as such. I am not at the point of believing what I do or am is worth the admiration of others. I can eat 21 lbs of grits in ten minutes with minimal flair and panache. I could easily be convinced that a hobo balancing a 12 foot wall of wooden pallets on a shopping cart with a bum wheel is more entertaining and noteworthy than gorging and taking up the life of a prize eater. The more exposure I receive the more I question my life and what the fuck I am doing with it. The more my sharks fin hair is exposed the more I question why I’m different and what I bring to the table of relevancy. Boredom is easily achieved in mostly anything I enjoy. Too much of anything can sour the milk bowl. When you are bored with your self image, antidotes’, stories, and acquired knowledge you can’t change the channel and dawdle in insanity. The created persona is perceived to rival the shield but can quickly diminish to a ronco or chef tony infomercial. The mirror; a once fickle and two timing comrade will pledge allegiance but noticeable lines, bags, and impurities will supersede the more pleasing traits. When the endearing physical and vocal/personable traits and faults days are known days occur when the unfavorable aspects take precedent over all others. The only way to stay real and true is in brutal honesty with yourself and the public. Too much information may turn off some but a person can develop a great affinity when the surface is scratched and all the intricate movable clown parts are exposed. Charles Bukowski is certainly the greatest example of this genre of wounded literary warriors. It leads to a deeper connection with the inner sanctum; an overall connection of who I am, what I stand for, and the debatable merits of my insight and 17 year old humor. This is who I am, take it or leave it. I am exactly the same person at and away from the table. The same sober as a nun and drunk as a priest. The same away from it all working my shitty cooking job and at home in my underwear playing exitebike. Honesty is the only endearing trait no matter how much over the line it is, don’t expect anything less. The world needs to know my breathalyzer level as well as my drunken thoughts on that bitch joey chestnut.




  1. Posted May 11, 2010 at 12:06 pm | Permalink

    I would wholeheartedly disagree that a hobo is more entertaining. I wish that the MLE would air more of the eating competitions, I find them to be very entertaining to watch! Particularly, the jalapeno eating championship. That was the bomb diggity my friend. Keep that bitch Joey Chestnut in check 😛

  2. ashley colby
    Posted June 27, 2010 at 12:59 am | Permalink


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