Blog Separation Anxiety- Phil Honus

Como esta amigos? That's just a little spanish. It means "how are you?" I definitely hadn't planned on this blog being so linguistically educational, but you have to just roll with it sometimes. :) (remember what that means? There will be a test at the end. Just Kidding. Or Am I?)
Speaking of blogs, how's this for a little surprise? Posting on BoShnickels' blog? It's not ideal. Not that I don't love the guy. But I roll alone. Oops, I mean, I roll only with myself and the Smart Retard. Sorry SR. I'm such a retard myself sometimes.
But really, I'm pretty bummed out about losing access to my blog. Maybe someday I'll get back to the Black template with the white lettering. I won't have to rent space from BoShnickels (Like I said, I love him, but we've got two different things going on). That blog was my heart and soul.
you don't understand what it's like to have lost control of something you love. I hate to be too anecdotal, but losing my blog brings me back to a pet monkey I used to have. Actually, it wasn't one hundred percent monkey. I believe it was only fifty percent monkey, and then fifty percent human. I never found out how such a creature came into existence- even though Mr. Giggles, the name I gave to him after finding him in the dumpster, had some language skills, he was never able to relate to us the details of his origins.
Of course Mr. Giggles was a disgusting freak of nature. But we loved him like one of our own. We didn't give him a bed. We made him sleep in a cage, of course. And we fed him old clothes. And sometimes when he made too much noise, we sprayed him with a fire hose until he piped down or passed out. Man, he could make a lot of noise!
We were best buds for the longest time. And we always watched out for each other. If someone made fun of me, Mr. Giggles would track that person down and defend me. I'm pretty sure he killed most of those people he tracked down, actually. I just don't think about it, really. It's tough not to, too, because he sometimes would bring home body parts and leave them lying around my room. It was gross, but that's friendship, I guess.
Things unfortunately didn't stay so positive. As Mr. Giggles got older he became pretty cranky. He started to bite. And to hump things, basically everything. My parents began to feel that Mr. Giggles was a threat to my safety. My dad came up with the idea of not feeding Mr. Giggles for a week or so to see if that would change his behavior. That pretty much just made him worse, even though we were able to give a large amount of old clothes to the poor and needy.
The final straw was when Mr. Giggles got the neighbor lady pregnant. Even though Mr. Giggles promised to take care of the child, even agreeing to take night classes while working two jobs, which I knew was a lie, since Mr. Giggles' had always been planning to see Paris since he was young, my dad had had it. He got me up early on a Saturday, handed me a pistol, and told me to take Mr. Giggles "hunting," which he said while doing the quotation marks with his fingers. I did, and we ended up bagging two owls. We got home and my dad was pretty pissed, partly due to the fact that he's a hard-core conversationist. The next morning my dad woke me up again, handed me the keys to his motor boat, as well as the handgun, and told me to take Mr. Giggles "fishing," this time really making a point to clarify that he was putting quotation marks around fishing. So again, I did what he asked and ended up catching a trophy sized cutthroat trout, with Mr. Giggles netting a very respectable lake trout. Again, my dad was pissed, so the next weekend he woke me up early, handed me the gun, and told me to go and "kill Mr. Giggles," which confused me at first, because he still did the quotation marks thing.
It was the toughest thing I ever had to do. I went to his cage and shot him while he was sleeping. It wasn't what my dad had had in mind.
Going back to that time in my life is tough. Like I said, losing control of this blog is sort of like losing control of my half monkey-half human freakazoid brother and having to shoot him. I just hope that the guys at blogger.com will stop being so "busy" and start responding to my emails.
A tearful peace out,
Phil Honus