Joys of Surfing
OK, I've been playing with the "next blog" random site function again. And it took me to one with a profile picture of a very big, grim-looking man standing in what appears to be a prison yard, with the kind of anvil-point goatee I associate with professional wrestlers who are not crowd favorites. And here was his post:
There follows a list of 45 names, all but three of them female. "Semi-random" indeed. Some of you also probably knew him as "the guy who put a snub-nosed .38 under my chin and told me not to make a fucking sound or I was a dead bitch."
Ove[r] the years, I've lost track of a number of people with whom I would like to restore contact. All were friends and people I loved or admired, whether I was ever able to overcome my insecurities to tell them so. All lived in or near ********, California, within the last twenty-five years.
Some of these people I treated rather shabbily; a few treated me so. For my part, I apologize; I was young, naive, and self-centered, and while that is no excuse, I hope it helps to explain my behavior.
Please, if you see your name here, hit this email link and let me know that you still exist. Tell me what you've been doing all this time, and why it's been so long since I last spoke with you.
I truly hope that you are all well, happy, and contented with your lives.
If I misspell a name, I apologize; I'm doing this from memory. Some of you knew me as Richard ********, others as Mike.
(These are in semi-random order)
There follows a list of 45 names, all but three of them female. "Semi-random" indeed. Some of you also probably knew him as "the guy who put a snub-nosed .38 under my chin and told me not to make a fucking sound or I was a dead bitch."
