i ain't got time to bleed

So there's that scene in "Predator" where Jesse "The Body" Ventura, who is "Blain" in the movie, looks up at the area where the Predator must be hiding and says, "Sum-gun is dug in like an Alabama tick..." The guy next to him says, "You're hit! You're bleeding!"

Without dropping his gaze from the forward glance he keeps, he spits his tobacco and says, "I ain't got time to bleed."

Feel that way about blogging... "I ain't got time to blog."


By the way, I was at a cookout yesterday, and my friend Tuck, sitting to my right, asked my other friend Kady K, sitting to my left, "Have you ever read d#39;s blog? It's really good. I don't read it every day, but it's one of the few blogs I do read on a regular basis." Then he looked at me and said, "You're a really good writer. You are really animated when you tell stories, and very descriptive."

Pardon me if I repeat myself from previous blogs, perhaps recent ones, but life just takes off and never looks back, Mach 3 with your hair on fire... that's a Top Gun reference for ya, there. Actually talked to someone the other day who said they had never seen Top Gun. I said a prayer for their eternal soul at that exact second.

Yes, I am a Disney Vacation Planner... I use the name Disney on a Dollar, as part of Magical Vacations By Me Travel, and it has kept me up nights, gotten me up early, challenged by multi-tasking skills and organizational fortitude...

...but y'all, I love it. It fires me up. It makes me happy. To help people maximize their time and money spent at Walt Disney World, and even at Disneyland and on the cruise, I just enjoy the heck out of it... I only expect it to be busier.

And yet, I miss the crap out of what I'm doing right here. I'm a writer. THEN a travel planner. Obviously, my blog ain't paying the bills (right now, anyway), so I had to turn Disney travel from a "Hobby" into a "Hustle". And hustlin' I've been... and now that its flowing free, now that it's on a track, a routine, a method of madness, it's time to steer my gaze back to this here page...

Coming up 1000 posts in the very near future, and a summertime is always fun to do something... before, I've had various themes over the course of the Summer, all geared towards blogging, writing and posting much more--and this summer is no exception.

Well, like Paramour sang, "you are... the only exception..." and to that, it's my consistency. I can promise to you "oh yeah, I'll write every day, I'll blog every day, it's my challenge!!!" but guess what... it just ain't happening. I might want it to happen. Maybe I think it should. But it ain't happening every day.

This summer is my Summer of Happy. From now til Labor Day, things that make me happy. Tangible things. Intangibles. People. Places. Food. Food. More food. And whatever. I've got a list of some things I'll post about. There are many more things that I know will be discovered over the summer. Maybe I'll post a couple of times per week. Maybe not. Maybe it's now July, you are re-reading this and thinking, "Well... its only been 44 days since he posted... maybe something is coming soon."

Speaking of which, did you know that I have now hit 57 days without a single bit of carbonation? I gave up not just Cokes and Cherry Cokes, but anything carbonated, including Ginger Ale, which I dig, and Cheerwine, which is my favorite Soda of Ever. Is that a humblebrag. Absolutely.

Where was I? Oh yeah, rambling on and on about blogging and so forth and what not.

Anyhoo... crap, did I just say "anyhoo"? Well, at least you'll never hear me say "peeps" or "Totes adorbs" or worse yet, "Gorg" with any sort of seriousness in my voice. I mean, "Gorg", really? Does it take much more effort to say "gorgeous"? Or just kick that word out and say, "Beautiful". More meaning. 

Oh yeah, from now til Labor Day, I'm setting myself an unreachable goal of blogging 75 posts and writing 75,000 words. Like, there's no way I'll make that, or even come close. But I refuse to give this writing up... I refuse to stop... I refuse to cede.

I ain't got time to cede.

(elaborate set up for poorly executed last joke. boomsauce.)