I'm... alive?
So, it's certainly been a while, eh? Real life can be a real (insert random figurative statement relating to my luscious posterior and the firing of pain receptors) sometimes, but as they say -- what does not kill me can only make me stronger. Although looking at that figure of speech, would that be some kind of acceptance of self-inflicted pain? Because shooting yourself in the foot with a pistol won't necessarily kill you, but it doesn't do a thing to increase hit points, vitality, or spirit so...
Wait, no. Now I'm just over analyzing and rambling like the madman that you all know I am. So moving right along instead then!
So a few people (very few, almost not worthy of numerical value or consideration) might be wondering what's on my writing schedule. And the answer to that would be... nothing.
And I'm sure Bean began to sharpen his implements of death as he read that. I'm just feeling a bit unmotivated of late. I blame the muse, personally, as I've got a sneaking suspicion that she's been off doing the horizontal bongo with my sense of apathy. It makes sense, the logical pieces fit, and it's wicked brilliant. And if you don't think so, I prescribe that you drink a few more beers and the true brilliance of my words should soak through, or the pee and vomit will, but there WILL be soaking of some sort going on.
Hmm. It's late and bed is calling me, so I'll get into the details of what's what in another post. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after, or some time after that. I'd bank on maybe at this point just to be on the safe side.
*flees*
Wait, no. Now I'm just over analyzing and rambling like the madman that you all know I am. So moving right along instead then!
So a few people (very few, almost not worthy of numerical value or consideration) might be wondering what's on my writing schedule. And the answer to that would be... nothing.
And I'm sure Bean began to sharpen his implements of death as he read that. I'm just feeling a bit unmotivated of late. I blame the muse, personally, as I've got a sneaking suspicion that she's been off doing the horizontal bongo with my sense of apathy. It makes sense, the logical pieces fit, and it's wicked brilliant. And if you don't think so, I prescribe that you drink a few more beers and the true brilliance of my words should soak through, or the pee and vomit will, but there WILL be soaking of some sort going on.
Hmm. It's late and bed is calling me, so I'll get into the details of what's what in another post. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after, or some time after that. I'd bank on maybe at this point just to be on the safe side.
*flees*