Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Worst. Post. Ever.

Sorry guys. I spent more than 40 min working on the today's post but then navigated away from the page and damn "blogger" thing didn't save ANY of it so I'm back to a blank page and am too tired and frustrated to rewrite it right now. I will hopefully game up and punch it out again tomorrow.

It's a good post, though. One of the best, maybe, if there are any posts that seem "better" than others. I don't know. I've always enjoyed June, 11 2008. Whatever. It may even be a two part-er.



MPM said...

oh boy. new low for the kosin blog.

Anonymous said...

I like how you put the comma after the word but. I always thought that is when a person pauses.

everyone smokes in college, or something as unhealthy. do you have finals in producing school? I hope you didn't write about it and I missed it.

love, aunt sandy

Anonymous said...

why does our entire family like to complain so much? is it the italian gene?


It's interesting, because not a day goes by, I hope, where I realize how lucky and blessed I am to be doing what I'm doing and keep in contact with so many people who I care about back home.

Unfortunately, complaining is probably one of the best activities there is in this world for me to do. It's fun, it's easy, it is something that allows the complainer to build themselves up while simultaneously tearing other people or institutions down.

Complaining is especially important because it allows a vent in a situation where there is no control. Whether its me bitching about a teacher I don't like, traffic on the 10, or the ineptitude of Chicago sports franchises, complaining - at length, usually over a beer or whiskey - is a great way to release frustrations and bond with others.

And, let's not forget, most of the best stand-up comedians are people with really funny complaints.

Maybe it is a genealogical trait passed down from the first grumbling immigrants to pass by Ellis Island - allowing them to vent frustrations about Nativism and poor water quality. If this need to whine about minuscule minutia is an inherited thing, I would say that it frustrates me.

It even frustrates me enough that I am inclined to complain about it.