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Wednesday, March 09, 2005

Woohoo, I made it!

I made it, I made it! I just want to thank the Academy and all the little people who made this all possible… Oops, wrong speach. Time to wing it.

Hi. I’m Remy Logan. Ever since I was a little kid, and first happened upon ResurrectionSong I dreamed of being a member of the zomby team. Ever since I was rim-high to a monster truck I wanted to be the “and others” on RS, right next to Jerry and Opinion Engine. Now I’m all growed and here I am. Yes, dreams really do come true. Of course, it took a lot of work. zombyboy had to beg and plead with me to get me to sign up. I was like dude, okay already. I did wrangle out of him an awesome steak dinner and a stay at a luxury Rocky Mountain hotel whenever I pass through Rocky Mountain Blogger territory.

The worst part was he made me prove I could actually spell ResurrectionSong. I cut-and-pasted that sucker. I’m also supposed to write a 5,000 word essay either about myself or what I did last summer. Let’s see—I’ve travelled the world and been on every major continent except for Africa, Australia, Antartica, Europe (except for the British Isles), South America and the Indian subcontinent. I’ve visited every state in the Union and every one of Her Majesty’s provinces in Canada except for the really cold ones and some of the other ones. I like long walks on the beach at sunset, laughing in the rain, and running barefoot through the park. Oops, wrong website. Well, I guess I could tell you what I did last summer— sweated a lot. If I told you anymore the CIA would be all over my butt. [Note to the CIA guys: Don’t worry. I learned my lesson after the first time with the cattle prod.]

Well… that was exciting. This will probably be my last post ever. You know how it is with childhood dreams. You achieve them, and then what? I’ll frame this post and send it off to my mother. She’ll probably put it on the wall next to my handprints-in-plaster thingy and that naked picture of me when I was 5. I thought I’d burned the durned thing, turns out she’d had copies made. Always get the negative. In case you’re wondering what I look like now, let’s just say it turns out that I wasn’t too traumatized by that photo afterall.

BTW, half of what I wrote is true. My therapist promises to let me know, one day, which half it is.

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