My wife doesn't like to read the stuff i write: she's never sure how she's expected to respond. Should she compliment? Should she offer reasoned criticism? Should she, she wonders, ask me straight out, "Just what is it you're driving at?" I'm not sure why i make a point of showing them to her: neither of us enjoys it.

Perhaps it's because i put this stuff up on a silly little webpage for no-one to see. Who wants to write into a vacuum? I like knowing that someone besides me has read this stuff. I feel so cheap e-mailing everyone i know: "Please - go look at this thing i wrote - i need validation - i am desperate for praise - you will praise me, won't you?"

If i put these things on a light pole downtown, eventually someone would notice. I might at least hear from a cop or preacher, angry about my language. But sticking it on a webpage, who's going to glance at it as they walk past? Nobody. Because a webpage - especially this one - isn't on your way to anywhere. You have to decide: today i am going to look at Cuzn Ed's silly little webpage. Then you have to already know where it is - because, once again, you're not going to find it by chance. It's not going to pop up in a new window every time you go to NekkidCoedsOnCrack.com. So it's like calling me on the phone: you have to be one of the few who know my number and make a conscious decision to call me, before you can find out what i think about life, love and picklejuice.

So i recognize that almost no-one sees my little writings. You, dear reader, are among the few who know my phone number, and one of nearly two who decided to dial it. This is why my wife gets strong-armed into reading my stuff: i just like to know that it's been read by someone.

So thanks for reading this, honey. By now i'm almost done with my shower, and you can tell me what you think while i dry off. You will praise me, won't you?