stop with the rocks, please

so, i suppose i am to regale you all (by which i mean trevor and all wary wanderers that may grace these pages. or this page, whatever) with some hitherto unknown act of debauchery and/or gluttonous indulgence, but...i am far too uninteresting to have anything like that for you.

the best i am going to be able to do for you, here on my blogthespot thing, is to share some half-ass poetry (that i can't stand to look at enough to do any actual revision work), put-up some of my music (that you probably won't like), rant in my usual self-defeatist, pseudo-elitist, overbearing, ass-hole, i-just-need-a-hug-or-a-bullet-to-the-face-or-both way about all kinds of shit you won't care about; everything from my horrible eating habits to the way i think art is polluted with an utter lack of sincerity in all senses. i don't know how much of a grey area that gives but i think you get the sentiment here: i will do my best to not sound as stupid as i invariably will. 

i'll try to put quotes and things from other people as it is sure to grow old hearing my self-loathing, self-deprecating ass drone on for too long.

is it too much to ask that you don't make fun of me or throw things at me? it hurts, thanks.