I’m back but I’m still lost

I’m sorry that I haven’t been here for you guys during the past few days but it wasn’t my fault. My only culpability lies in the fact that I’m too awesome, too honest and too popular in Spain. After every Spanish citizen read my article and started demanding better haircuts, better food and more spring, the powers that be in this county decided that I had to be stopped.

The fascist, censoring fucktards cut off my ability to internet last week. They also cut my phone so I think they were also probably trying to kill me. Because that’s what killers do; they cut the phone wires before they cut the throats of the victims with farming tools. Which is kind of stupid because it’s way easier to kill someone with a gun than with a wheat thresher. 

Is that a wheat thresher? Fuck. I told you not to let me tell farming jokes. I don't know enough about farming. Remember?

I think they wanted me internetless and/or dead because I insulted their mullets, food and taste in music. The terrorists who claimed responsibility said that they didn’t get their money, which comes out of my bank by whatever the opposite of direct deposit is, (…the thing where your money magically disappears instead of the thing where it magically appears? Direct withdrawal? No, that sounds like what would happen if you used a crack-like heroin.) but there was money in the bank and it’s worked every other time so I think they just wanted to silence and/or kill me with a wheat thresher. But I’m not dead so they must suck at murdering people as much as they suck at hairstyling and spring. Hear that? Suck it Spain! Come and get me fuckers!

I loved my time ‘off the grid’ though and I accomplished 13 billion percent more than I normally do in a week. I did a bunch of stuff that I can now blog about to keep us all entertained for months. I saved another dog. I painted the kitchen. I learned quantum physics. I climbed mountains…or at least really gigantic, steep hills.

Ohhh, and I noticed that my ADD is nothing more than a side effect in direct proportion to my internet consumption. Without the world wide web flowing freely into my living room I was able to sit down and write my book without the compulsive need to stop in the middle of a sentence to google every girl I’ve ever dated with the words ‘anal porn’ to make sure that due to our breakup they didn’t fall into a spiral of self loathing, crack-like heroin addiction and anal porn. The last time I checked they were all anal porn free. And thank God because who would want to be responsible for that sort of thing?

I also saw the finale of Lost during my forced exile from Internetland. Because of this I also spent a great deal of my days ‘accidentally’ brushing up against (not in the creepy, stalkery way. In the creepy “I hope we used to have sex in another life/parallel universe” kind of way. Which is slightly less creepy.) super hot women just in case it would allow me to wake up and remember my super awesome adventures in a past life/parallel universe where I saved humanity from some obscure bad thing. –No luck yet but I’m still hopful.

Anyway, I’m back.