Slow News Day

Today is the 29th day of 2009. Tomorrow marks my 30th day of trying to write every single day. You know what? I look back and think, my goodness I'm worthless at this whole blogging thing. I read a blog today by someone who has some obvious mental problems. It makes me wonder if I sound this bad when I'm having a paranoid day. At lest I'm not trying to sell a (signed and numbered) book about my craziness. Oh, if only I could. That really needs to be my next step: have a coked-out crazy butt-sex session with a soon-to-be famous person (weather in reality or my own little fantasy world) and then schlep the memoir about it online. You'd buy it, wouldn't you ladies and gentlemen and the rest of you? Political posturing mixed with schizoid fantasy sells, doesn't it? People buy Rush Limbaugh's books, don't they?

But I'm growing weary of all these drawn-out sordid tales. Ted Haggard's recent reemerging is ridiculous. Weren't we through with all that years ago? Why drag it out and discuss it again as if seeing this bozo re-crucified on HBO is going to help anybody. Sure, maybe it'll sell a few more books by Haggard's former butt-boy. It'll give a couple more of his former meth-buddies their fifteen minutes. But it won't help those poor queer fifteen-year-olds hiding out in their evangelical parents' houses waiting to be shipped off to ex-gay camp, will it? It doesn't do any good for closeted homosexuals trapped in their heterosexual lives. Why doesn't the media focus on an ex-ex-gay for a minute? 

Come to think of it, is there an ex-ex-gay movement? Surely I can't be (other than a few overexposed celebrity examples) the last normal everyday former closet case? It's worth looking into.