Thought Dumpage

Okay, so today I have felt pretty good so far, but the good feeling seems to be dropping slightly at the moment, so I'm hoping that writing this post will somehow bring me back up to goodness again. I really don't know what I want to talk about. What is there to talk about? Art? I suppose I did take a little look at art sites recently, but not for the sake of art, more for the sake of the actual design of the websites. I wanted to see which art website had the best design, aesthetic-wise and efficient-wise. I never came to a decision, though, because I actually just did this website design lookup thing a few minutes ago; I just came to this blog from it. Oh boy, isn't that just peachy: I find something to do, get sad about something else, and ignore that something to do in order to find fulfillment in the sad thing that I don't want to do. I'm such a happy person, ain't I?

I don't know what else to say. There doesn't seem to be anything else. Well being and run fasting is the way of life around these parts, ain't it? (don't worry; I'm just stalling until my brain gets somewhat in tune; I have to move my fingers somehow, so this is that) Are you sure you saw him on that dreadful day when the sun rose so high that it burned the very irises of your eyes? I never knew someone so vicious as that Vincent V. Vandaverque. Why, he never ever ever even said goodbye when I told him that he was my brother and that I loved him very dearly. He just turned around and ran of like some stupid coward.

My head hurts. Man, theres actually a certain section that's stinging slightly right now. It's on the stage front right side of my brain; I wonder what section that is. I don't want to look it up, so maybe you readers can explain it for me, or maybe not, seeing as I don't really have any readers yet, and I probably won't ever have readers based on the fact that I'm doing nothing on this site but writing stupid shit that no one in his or her (see, grammar) right mind would want to read even on the worst most boring of days, perhaps especially on the worst and most boring of days seeing as I'm eluding that my writing is more boring than shit coming out of a constipated ass. Whatever. You can be the judge; I suppose.

I keep on thinking of Kiki's Delivery Service at times like this, the part when Kiki, the teenage witch, could no longer fly with her broom, something she'd been able to do completely without thinking since she was very little. She then met a newly made friend who advised her to spend a bunch of days off seeing the sights and doing all kinds of relaxing things, to not even think of flying and before she knew she would fly again, so she did this and was.... yeah, go and see the movie, you lame people. Why should I have to explain what happens in a good movie in words like these. It's a good movie; I swear. Now, go watch it if you don't believe me.

The various dogs that run across the very large room where people of all races are doing flips and jumps and crazy stunts that could get them killed if they're not careful are barking very very loudly and the barks they make sound an awful lot like the crap that comes out of this type writer when the block begins to set in. It's certainly not that I have nothing to write, for no one can make that argument as evidenced by the following repetition: I am typing something. I am typing something. I am typing something. I am typing something. But, eventually I get bored of typing something on repeat mode and decide to switch it up a notch, maybe add another paragraph break or two.

Then comes a lovely new topic that has pleanty to do with the previous topics, but not too much; we wouldn't want to separate the thingies from the other thingies; now would we? I know there's a lot going on in my brain right now and only like seven percent of it is actually reaching this blog. Man, I've got to learn to type faster if I really want to make some progress. There is a balm in gilead to make the wounded whole. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.

Oh boy, this is where all of the typing starts to make no sense whatsoever. Be prepared for that grammar and punctuation crap to leave, as I eluded to either (dammit, marketing teacher, now you've got me saying that stupid word).

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for you, you won't see a break in the spelling at all, or at least you'll hardly see one, for Mozilla draws a red squiggly line under every bad spelled word that really really really behooves you to fix it. It stays there forever until you make a new paragraph, and it really annoys me sometimes. Actually, no it doesn't annoy me. I like to know that whatever I'm trying to spell is being spelt correctly, with the exception of a few words and names of course: aeroplane, grey, you know, stuff like that. Et cetra...

I'm done. Have fun. (rhymes)