I Survive on the Breath you are Finished With

Lately, I'm like a tanking economy seeking its bottom. Just when I think I'm there, some dead-cat-bounce, like my recent inspired blog posts, will come along and lift me up a bit, delaying my inevitable unraveling and thus delaying my eventual recovery, which can't come soon enough. To combat this, I've decided to speed my undoing by destroying the one thing in my life that's clicking right now: this blog! The question is how to do it. I've tried not posting anything before and it hasn't worked. People still come around to check for new material. No! It will take stronger action than that. Hmm? What if I started posting stuff that I knew really sucked? Yes! But what? What one item could I post that would be so vile and so grotesque that even the closest friend and most loyal reader could never allow herself to come back. What one snipped of bile would leave such an awful stench around here that I could not even stand it myself?

Hmm?

Um, I guess I could post a video of Brad Paisley and John Mayer singing "Come Back to Bed." That might work. I mean, if there's a country music singer on the planet who could pull off the line, "I survive on the breath you are finished with," It's Brad Paisley, right? So long, blog friends!

My two favorite guitarists in the world: Brad Paisley inspires me to play my guitar; John Mayer lets me know that I'm wasting my fucking time by doing so.