Back in the day I had a MySpace page. I have some tales about MySpace and my experience with it, as well as the gray day when I turned my back on it, leaving it weeping in the window of a brownstone apartment as the snow fell and I stepped into the taxicab below without looking back.
I’ve been urged to repost my MySpace blogs for posterity.
I begin now, with my first ever draft of my MySpace “Profile”.
Enjoy.
About Me:
In the days of darkness when the world was naught but dust and the sun birthed its first rays upon the groaning waters — a legend was born. Bursting from the stone in an explosion of sound and fury, it was this man’s destiny to rule the known Universe, and to forever wage constant war upon those Universes Unknown.
Approximately 78HF years later, Eric Springer was born in a hospital in North America. His birth was a rather clumsy and messy affair, (as the result of an equally clumsy and messy affair approximately 9 months previous,) and the first sounds that met his ears were the deafening screams of his mother.
This is his tale.
YOU ARE COMPELLED TO READ MY BLOGS, MORTAL!
Profile views as of 12/12/05: 15,161 and you.
When I was born I was hit in the head with a maul. Well, not a maul per say, it was more of a small hammer.
Let’s start this over.
When I was born I was hit in the head with a maul. I mean hammer — sh*t. Anyway, moving on, it happened because there was a goat in the delivery room. Ok it wasn’t really a delivery room in the traditional sense, because I was born in a barn in Mexico City. Doesn’t add up? Ok you caught me — it was Tlaxcala. I just figured you wouldn’t know how to pronounce Tlaxcala so I said Mexico City. Yeah I don’t know why, let’s forget it. Anyway, when I was born I was hit in the head with a hammer in a barn in Tlaxcala because a goat was trying to eat the hayage upon which mi Madre was seated. Sorry, I mean lying. Like she was prone, because she was giving birth, right? Ok.
I fibbed about the goat too. It was a Javelina. Like, a wild pig. Anyway.
When I was born I was hit in the head with a hammer in a barn in Tlaxcala because a Javelina was trying to eat the hayage upon which mi Madre was prone. The doctor was waving the hammer and struck me. On second thought, he wasn’t really a doctor. He was like, this ranchero named Juan Juan. Ok ok, his name wasn’t Juan Juan but that would be cool if it was, huh? “Juan Juan the Hammer-Waver.” But it wasn’t Juan Juan, it was Juan Huevos, whose real name was Jon Dexter, some guy from California that left for Mexico because he wanted to discover himself and he thought Mexico was the place to do it. Also I think he wanted the cheap prescription drugs. He was a weird guy. But he liked surfing. Not that there was much surfing to be done in Tlaxcala, which I learned later. Anyway I didn’t want to say Huevos because it means “balls.” It also means “eggs,” yes, you’re right.
Eggs and Balls.
When I was born I was hit in the head with a hammer in a barn in Tlaxcala because a Javelina was trying to eat the hayage upon which mi Madre was prone. Juan Huevos was waving the hammer and struck me. He was trying to get the Javelina away from the hayage.
I’m trying to stop lying.
Fave Quotes:
“Come, Ahab’s compliments to ye; come and see if ye can swerve me. Swerve me? Ye cannot swerve me, else ye swerve yourselves! Man has ye there. Swerve me? The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run. Over unsounded gorges, through the rifled hearts of mountains, under torrents’ beds, unerringly I rush! Naught’s an obstacle, naught’s an angle to the iron way!”
- Capt. Ahab, Moby Dick
“This was Brett that I had felt like crying about. Then I thought of her walking up the street and stepping into the car, as I had last seen her, and of course in a little while I felt like hell again. It is awfully easy to be hard-boiled about everything in the daytime, but at night is another thing.”
- Jake Barnes, The Sun Also Rises
“No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man can store up in his ghostly heart.”
- Nick Carraway, The Great Gatsby
“[...] you cannot stop me, cannot stop us. Try to stop us, you pussy! You can’t stop us from singing, and you can’t stop us from making fart sounds, from putting our hands out the window to test the aerodynamics of different hand formations, from wiping the contents of our noses under the front of our seats.”
- Dave Eggers, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
