For the last few days, I haven’t been able to post. I’ve been waiting. Waiting in fear. Waiting in doubt. You can smell the hesitation in the air. I reek of it. It’s under my armpits and it’s in my clothes. Fuck, it’s even in my breath.

See, every post I make I expect to be better than the last. Funnier. Wittier. It needs to exude panache. It needs to blow your mind. Again and again.

But baby, I can’t keep this up.

So what if I slip? What if you realize that I’ve been faking this wit, charm, and charisma all along? What’ll happen if you see that I came to show-and-tell with nothing to show and nothing to tell?

Well I’ll tell you what’ll happen. I’ll stutter and stall. Then Jimmy – pudgy Jimmy who always brings those damn prepackaged lunches to class – is going to raise his grubby finger and point it at me. Then he’ll laugh. Then all yall will laugh.

And then it’ll be Kindergarten all over again.

So like, I need more time. Gimme more time.

But in the meanwhile, I’ll distract you with the ravings of the very vivacious Rhys, a blogger who was gracious enough to feature me in her recent post. She’s cute. Kind of like that rebellious friend I never had in high school.

You know, the one that snuck out of the house to make out with her biker boyfriend(s) behind the local 7-Eleven? The one that tried repetitively to hook you up with all her older, slightly crazed girlfriends? The one whose site popped up first on Google when you typed in “naughty fetish costumes”?

Don’t ask me how I know that last one.