... or see you later, anyway.
Life is like a bowl of cherries/box of chocolates/handgrenade with the pin pulled.
We roll with the punches, live the hard knock life, play jump rope. Mine is at an end or very frayed at the least. I work six days a week, twelve hours a day. In my down time I sleep, spend as much time with Tamara as possible, have a little fun. What I don't seem to do, more then once a week for a possible half hour, is TRF.
I am sorry in some ways, exhalted in others.
The ways in which I am sorry pretain to those with whom I have had lasting friendships online, those with whom great and not-so-great stories have been told and those with whom great conspiracies have been enacted. The ways in which I am not sorry are... more real, more immediate.
Many of you have been good friends to me, in the online sense of the word. I will miss you dearly. But fret not, my return is immutable. One day my schedule will become more relaxed, my time more flexible and then I promise to make my triumphant return (hah). But until that day I must bid you adieu and wish you the best because I cannot maintain an active presence here without the time and means to do so.
My email remains active, something I manage to check more often (mkolabin@gmail.com) and I expect those of you who know who you are to keep in touch by the gods!
TRF was for many long years the staple of my internet persona. I hope it continues to last, as it has, enduring forever that I may return to it... to you. So many great tales woven, insults brandished and debates debated. TRF will remain the source of my most fond and most foul memories in terms of online relating-ships.
Keep me in your thoughts and in your email as I will most certianly keep you.
Yours TRFingly, Beff Pike.
Life is like a bowl of cherries/box of chocolates/handgrenade with the pin pulled.
We roll with the punches, live the hard knock life, play jump rope. Mine is at an end or very frayed at the least. I work six days a week, twelve hours a day. In my down time I sleep, spend as much time with Tamara as possible, have a little fun. What I don't seem to do, more then once a week for a possible half hour, is TRF.
I am sorry in some ways, exhalted in others.
The ways in which I am sorry pretain to those with whom I have had lasting friendships online, those with whom great and not-so-great stories have been told and those with whom great conspiracies have been enacted. The ways in which I am not sorry are... more real, more immediate.
Many of you have been good friends to me, in the online sense of the word. I will miss you dearly. But fret not, my return is immutable. One day my schedule will become more relaxed, my time more flexible and then I promise to make my triumphant return (hah). But until that day I must bid you adieu and wish you the best because I cannot maintain an active presence here without the time and means to do so.
My email remains active, something I manage to check more often (mkolabin@gmail.com) and I expect those of you who know who you are to keep in touch by the gods!
TRF was for many long years the staple of my internet persona. I hope it continues to last, as it has, enduring forever that I may return to it... to you. So many great tales woven, insults brandished and debates debated. TRF will remain the source of my most fond and most foul memories in terms of online relating-ships.
Keep me in your thoughts and in your email as I will most certianly keep you.
Yours TRFingly, Beff Pike.
