MK gets smoked

When I premiered my a mere few days ago, it was a premier to no one. No one knew of my blog, no one found it by accident, and that was just how I wanted it. Still exploring the very first shapes and tones of my blog, I both desired and enjoyed the privacy of unmapped webspace. As my blog and I grew, however, we quickly (more quickly than I had expected) desired the exposure and fame that is so decievingly attractive at this adolescent stage of development.

My first step - and a large first step it was - was to expose myself to my current friends and other aquaintances. While I did, in a way, want them to have a chance to experience the blog, and then either continue to visit, or not, I certainly did not want to force them to patronize the blog. To me, that seemed to take away from the freedom of the blog itself. My solution (be it a good one or not) was to simply post the blog's url in my aim profile - unlabled uncommented upon, but there. Whether anyone would explore it would be up to them.

To my joy, I had an immediate taker. A visitor! Even a commentor! Oh, the glee. Unfortunately, while my one visitor has remained a faithful one, there have been no other followers. About this, I have mixed feelings. I began writing this blog for myself, and I don't want to allow its success to be measured by the numbers of its visitors. Nevertheless, knowing that other people in the world are reading the nonsense words I write provides a kind of strange satisfaction. I have made up my mind, however, to be content with however my readership plays out. I strive to do no further advertising, prefering instead to let nature now take her course. I do, however, want to spit a quick rhyme to the one reader who keeps coming by.


Playing poker at 2 am,
not getin' to say "amen".
SB gets Ace 10,
and she goes all in,
MK's got pocket pair,
and calls that girl's dare,
sometimes you win,
sometimes you lose,
but the Ace 10 filled in,
and that straight calls for some booze.
MK's hurtin' for bad chips,
But bullets are salsa and he's ready to dip,
A King and his girl
have come to play,
but with all hands shown,
it looks like M's day.
Looks, however, can be decieving
and it's the royalty that will soon be recieving.
Flop, turn, river: clubs.
That shit ain't good when you're sittin' on ace-dubs,
The aces are red, but it's the king who turns flush,
MK went down in an awful rush,
so now he's out,
till tomorrow at 12,
nothin' to do,
but continue to delve,
into the site that I continue to write,
despite the fact that it's just for one white,
and the black backgound
can't hide what's profound -
that this is a site
that just can't be found.