Well, at least I think I’m funny.

Because you can’t really call them movies can you? I know I can’t. There’s something about Justin Timberlake in a movie with “dog” in the title that just doesn’t seem right to me.

I wonder what these Hollywood producers are thinking? “Well, he’s an awful musician, so he MUST be good at something! Perhaps that something is acting!” No. That something is pumping gas.

And what about Stomp the Yard? Really? Stomp the Yard? I don’t think that title even makes sense in ebonics. But I guess there weren’t enough movies about a new kid or outsider in a new location having to adapt to his surroundings and doing so by dancing.

Yeah, I remember back when my Dad was in the Air Force. We’d move to a new place and to make friends, well, I can’t tell you the number of break-dancing competitions I won - along with the hearts and minds of everyone at my school. And it’s a good thing I did, because otherwise the money raised by such events would have never been given to my ailing mother/grandmother/dad by my dance-team - the very group that once despised me who now respects me. And my arch enemies? Well, we’re all friends now. Because we danced together. Sure we hated each other and even might’ve fought over a girl, but when you get into your six-step after your top-rock and then bust out the hand spin? Well, it turns even the toughest gangsta into a big ol’ teddy bear. Now that’s the kinda respec I’m talkin’ ’bout.

Maybe our president could learn a few things from these movies. Rather than costly weapons and armor, we could train our soldiers and our new Iraqi allies to be devastating on the mic AND the dance-floo’. Because Al-Qaeda can blow up Iraqi citizens and our soldiers, but they won’t be able to stop themselves from blowin’ up our T-Mobile Sidekick III’s with messages like “Damn Son!” and “YEE BOOI!” and plead us to teach them how to headspin.

Every morning you come into work, sit down, look at your desk, see all this…this…this stuff. Stuff you have to do. Stuff you don’t want to do. You think about how awesome it would be to have one of those cool jobs like writing a lousy TV show, or even better, writing a good TV show. You take a few sips of your coffee, check some email, maybe sit there for a while before deciding what it is and how much you’ll do that day.

Then you hit up your blogroll. Or your bookmarks. Or your newsreader - whatever it is you use to keep all your favorite amateur writers in a nice, neat, drop-down menu of distraction. Some people are funny, some are offensive, others you’re not sure why you even read them.

All of sudden you stumble across your favorite blog. My blog. Is he going to be extra-gay for John Mayer today? Maybe he’ll include a zainy dialogue! I hope Jesus shows up with his limebars!

You click the link. Then you get some stupid message like “Oops! You’re searching for something that can’t be found!” Maybe one time there was actually a new post and then five minutes later its been completely deleted. At one point you thought things were going well for me - I got some old posts imported, I had a new post up, sure the video embedding didn’t work but hey, maybe he’s back on track!

I’m here to assure you that everything is anything but on track. Being completely confused by how to go about setting up my new site is how I roll lately. Not to mention not even being near a computer until this past week.

But I’m coming back damnit. You’ve heard the opening verse, the chorus has come and gone, but here comes the bridge baby, here comes the bridge. So stay tuned. Keep checking back. Maybe Tiny Skateboarding Monkey will come back. Maybe Jesus and Satan will be entrenched in a life-or-death battle of Pokeman. Who can say? Until then I recommend you read someone who’s been updating a lot lately:

http://www.johnmayer.com/blog

Honestly, some of the most eye-opening stuff followed by some of the funniest. Even if you don’t like his music that much, you’ll like his blog. And his ideals. At least I do.

I’ll be back soon.