Apparently I was so tired last night that I failed to notice that the ol' Blog o' Eternal Cheekiness had hit the century mark. Needless to say, the blog got very upset and went to her mother's and I had to buy a buttload of flowers and candies and such just to restore a minimal amount of peace. Relationships are hard. And smelly. And probably fattening.

In either case, I'm feeling a tad more rested today, although not as significantly as I would have hoped. Just settin' down a spell to try and pump out a little literary goodness this evening and procrastinating on the week's movie reviews ("Wicker Park" is like a drive across eastern Wyoming--you spend two hours looking at nothing...). Think I'm doing a lil' bit of detoxing on the music. Still have some ideas bouncing around, but want to give 'em some time to develop (or spoil, I guess, depending on your point of view...) but still holding out hopes for an ultra-rough demo version to be ready by the end of the year.

I would like to comment on something, however. Perhaps I'm doing this whole "blogging" thing all wrong. Checking out my favorite blogs (Kari's and Michaela's...one I know, one I don't, whether that's relevant or not...) and I realize that pretty much everyone is much more revealing than I. Or more hip. Or, you know, regular. (not in the poop way...)

So, if you've come to Joe Mammy's Blog in hopes of finding a confessional, sadly you are going to be disappointed. In fact, I've never been much for the wearing my heart on my screen. Spilling all the horrible little details of my existence (which I'm sure there are many, although I'm sure they're also intensely boring...) just seems, well, too crass. Or at least crass in that I'd be absolutely no good at it and would therefore be playing to a Jerry Springer kind of ideal.

So, basically, if you're looking for insight into my personality, what my favorite color is, what kind of socks I wear, etc, you ain't a-gonna get it. I'm generally just as content to be relatively unknown aside from whatever work I choose to present. Even that sometimes can be unnerving. So perhaps this is an apology, or maybe a disclaimer, but I'm not going to bore you all with 99% of the crap that I have to put up with. Just suffice it to say that I have just as healthy a dose of reality as the rest of you and would be just as happy to be rid of it.

So, unless I think it's funny don't expect to see posts about true love, unrequited love, puppy love, Courtney Love, or anything other than my takes on the strange and the banal. That's where I think the interesting stuff is, anyway.

No word on the latest Feature. I suspect we may have the very first punt for Joe-Mammy.com. Oh well, even DiMaggio couldn't hit in 57 straight...

-Joe