I get the feeling no one’s reading this stuff. Have I driven away all the decent folks with my low-brow drivel? There was a time you know, when I pulled big numbers. No matter, I will not be dissuaded.

I was just thinking that if you know who HR Puffinstuff is, it’s probably time for some sort of middle-aged rectal exam. I vaguely remember the theme song and I’m pretty sure HR was a guy in shabby, B-class baggy animal suit of some kind. Maybe I should schedule a physical.

I think about my childhood a lot. I was a happy kid. I recently came into possession of my baby book. An entry on page six, when I was two or three years old sums it up:

Paul is a happy baby and can sing many songs.

God knows what went wrong. I read that entry to a friend of mine and he just started belly laughing. “Well,” he said, “You’re a sour son-of-a-bitch now!”

Who knows what went awry. Things seemed pretty good up until my twenties. I guess that’s when responsibility beats the shit out of you and leaves you for dead. Responsibility has sucked the very marrow from my bones.

Now I find myself reliving my childhood in mini dream sequences throughout the day. Who knows, maybe I’m not the only one.