Blog Number Twenty-Seven: An Open Letter To...(you know who you are)

As always, any questions, complaints, or suggestions can be sent to razorsedgeblog@gmail.com. ALL emails will be read, disseminated, and laughed at by our crack staff...on crack.

HOLY SHIT! Are you fucking kidding me? 

The bastard blog of the World-Wide-Inter-Web is FUCKING BACK BITCHES!

All you haters, non-believers, stalkers, and general ignorant assholes step the fuck aside!

The Razor's Edge is back from a self-imposed 483-day hiatus to walk the Earth like Cain and study transcendental meditation with the Marharasi.

Instead of that fucking hippie bullshit, the Edge is back screaming for vengence Judas Priest-style, spew the venom of a thousand pissed off cobras during breeding season. 

The Edge is back ready to shoot first and ask questions later like police officers around the US misusing their power in cases of racial profiling.

The Edge, dear loyal reader, is just plain back goddammit!

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Quote of the Day:

"Why don't I just admit it? Admit that I'm that evil white guy everyone is always complaining about?" 

-Tom Sanders (Michael Douglas), "Disclosure"

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This is not going to be your normal, run-of-the-mill, kill-everyone-with-verbal-daggers-type-blog.  As the two or three readers of this pseudo-journalistic abortion called a blog knows, we here at the Edge tears a Tera-Patrick-size asshole into anyone and everyone who speaks wrong, does wrong, or just plain is wrong. But this time, dear loyal reader, our target of choice is a lot more stylized...a lot more introspective..a lot more...personal.

This is an open letter...you know who you are.

Dear (you know who you are),

The crew has never allowed me to blog about you in fear of legal repercussions. 

Fucking pussies. 

I have been silent too long about you. 

I have been like a Zen surfer-ninja, waiting for the perfect wave to attack.  

I have been waiting in the shadows...waiting for a chance to strike.

Now is my time to finally tell the truth to any and all interested parties.

Now is my time to unburden myself with this yoke I have carried for so long.

My time for redemption is now.

First and foremost, I never left because of what we mutually share together. 

I would never shirk responsibility as monumental as that. 

Ever.

I left because of you.

I could not stay for her and have an amicable business relationship with you at the same time.

It would not have been healthy for her, as well as us.

She, from what I've heard, is in a good place..emotionally, finnancially.

He is good to her, and for that he has my respect and admiration.

For the record, I have no ill will or bad juju toward him.

When the time comes, she will have questions, and I will be honored to answer them.

And when that times comes, he and I will have to have a good-ol' fashioned sit down and discuss things.

I want NO contact with you!

No facebook, no myspace, no smoke signals.

Get his permission before you contact, at least, before you contact me.

Understand? 

In closing, remember the most simplistic irony to this whole situation:

Everytime you look at her, you will think of me.

My blood courses through her veins.

I am her...and she is me.

--i'm done, stick a fork in me--