Ya know what sucks? ...Me!

The actor: a portrait of insecurity. Me: no exception. Luckily I happen to be very secure in my insecurity. Perhaps it's for this reason that I so enjoy self-deprecating humor. (Or perhaps it's because I share the same birthday as Conan O'Brien, the standing King of said humor since the death of Rodney Dangerfield.) And what's not to like about it? It disarms people who might otherwise have ammunition to use against you; kind of like saying, "You can't fire me! Because I QUIT!" Wanna lambaste me for having the hands and wrists of a 12-year-old girl? For being a college graduate with hardly a dime to his name? For my perpetual brooding? For my severe lack of "game?" For being painfully average in nearly every way imaginable? Well TOO BAD, 'cause I'll beat you to the punch. That's right, I'll write a sardonic, self-flagellating blog title faster than you can say "dude, Dylan, you're probably worse at basketball than my 87-year-old grandmother."

But then again, perhaps my affinity for sticking it to me stems from catching myself far too often in acts of glaring hypocrisy; being overly-critical of others for faults of which I myself am just as guilty, if not more so. So before raking anyone over the coals, I've taught myself to take a good, long look in the mirror first... and if I'm able to vindicate myself after doing so, then by god I'll be merciless on the fucker! But only after some good ol' introspection.

Another fun off-shoot of self-deprecation, I've found, is faux egomania. A recent example: "Do you work out often?" ..."Well obviously, how do you think I sculpt these pythons?" (Knowing full well that due to my recent lack of working out, my arms resembled those of Olive Oil at the time.) Faux egomania, however, must be handled with extreme caution; you do, after all, run the risk of having it mistaken for genuine egomania, which unfortunately runs rampant in my not-so-beloved home of Los Angeles. And now that I mention it, one thing I've discovered in the "industry" is that the most inflated egos usually belong to those who have the least to be egotistical about (id est, those who really haven't done shit yet), while those whose hard work has been rewarded with success generally tend be the more humble and pleasant.

I find the notion that there's something about me that makes me any more spectacular than the next guy downright laughable. As hard as I've tried not to be, the fact is that I'm all too human; utterly, utterly flawed. I think that pointing out and laughing about the various things that make me so from time to time is healthy and keeps me grounded. If, by chance, some freak accident occurs and I start to brim with self-satisfaction, I've often instructed those close to me that they have the permission to kick me square in the nuts. This goes for all (if any) who ever read this...

...and in other news, hooray! New blog!