The Phony Rung

Shoesie correctly pointed out that my rankings are judged mostly on quantity, rather than quality. I'd say about 90%. So to win my undesirable favour all one needs to do is do. Still, I'd like to clear up a few things. His current air of self-deprecation is refreshing in lieu of his previous manner, albeit in an unsettling way, and his dismissal of himself in favour of the currently hibernating Pewter Pew is unfair. P.P.'s biggest strength is his lack of pretension — though his biggest weakness is spawned from the same source, in that sometimes you get the feeling that you'd enjoy a particular weekend chronicle a tad more if you were actually there at the time. I find it akin to explaining your dreams — when they don't feature gold pine cones, that is. He does make for an interesting tonic, though.

It seems the Diplomat landed on this persona to combat his face-to-face manner, much as I vented my unpleasantness in the face of my timidity. A totally organic reader may get the wrong impression. Lucky we don't have any, then. Ah but maybe this is our true selves, and that deep within we're angry, lusting lunatics. Either way, his walls are better than mine. Most likely he'll celebrate this revelation with a blow on the ol' shoehorn — after the well-worn "Who's up for a good shoehorn?" line wears off.

The Shoehorn saga seems to have garnered me that elusive corner of the spotlight, which was most likely my intention in the first place. Thus the real key to my rankings seems to rest on how much attention I get. I am a whore, after all. Though I'd never admit it.