There Is Aboslutely No Reason For Anyone To Read This

Realistically speaking, I should just post this blog with the title and nothing else.  Except for the fact that it would entirely devalue all the time I spent setting up this little corner of the interwebz.  Let me elaborate.  Extrapolate?  No, I think elaborate was better, I'm going to stick with that.

See, I don't have anything valuable to say.  I'm not even that funny, except on good nights when I'm drunk.  Right now = bad night while sober.  So if you're expecting to laugh, I hope you like semi-retarded cartoons with odd nicknames.  Well, I do hope you like that, but you're not going to get any of it.  See?  Its like my sole purpose for existing is just to crush your secret dreams to see retarded cartoons.

This blog will never contain anything of any real value.  It exists merely as a way for me to fufill my self important fantasties centered around exactly how awesome me is.  Yep.  Me is.  I just want to have a little box that I can ramble into with my fingers all a twitterpatter... pater?  Twitterpaters?  Its like twitter had a crack baby with a McElephant.  Because a real, non-McDonalds elephant would never reduce itself to fucking twitter for money.  God damn rich twitter bastards...

Anyway, where was I?  Yeah, that kind of nonsense is what you'll get here.  You may or may not get some truly horrific poetry from time to time- and not truly horrific in an ironic, 'I'm trying to be funny' kind of way, either.  No.  Like I sat down and poured my heart and soul onto a piece of paper (because my heart and soul are both equally pourable and yet containable entirely on the surface of a piece of paper... I wonder if the paper has little barrier walls along the sides like levees?  Or maybe its something to do with electromagnetic pulsation puppies?  I don't really know what the fuck electromagnets are, but they sound like awesome supervillian Magneto babies.)

Oh, shit, I was making a point.  Yes, right.  Heart, soul, paper, poop.  That was essentially what I was trying to get to; but wasn't it much funner to put it that way?  The answer is yes, it was.  And if you don't like it, eat a dick.  (Thanks for brain-controlling me into listening to the song, hyperboleandahalf chick.  Now I'm walking around saying 'eat a dick', which invariably can end only with me winning everything.)

Shit.  Now I feel obligated to say something relevant.  I'm not sure why.  Who could possibly still be reading this?  Other than the fact that there is absolutely nothing that would motivate someone to randomly type the web addy into their little browsy mcdooder (that really is how much I know about technological communications)... wait I don't remember what I was talking about.

NO!  I CAN'T just go back and read what came right before that, because then I wouldn't be genuine and honest and real and somebody else think of a bunch of other adjectives to go here.

Amazingly, I started doing this out of sheer bone crushing depression.  (My depression has actual physical weight, and it is equal to the amount of weight it would take to CRUSH YOUR FUCKING BONES).

My Depression = YOUR BONES CRUSHED!

Well, I guess my bones.  Wouldn't it suck if your bones got crushed because I was depressed?  I'm sure someone will make a TV show about it soon.

Anyway, the amazing thing is that I'm really not as depressed anymore.  I'll have to consider this tomorrow while I'm at work and see if the trend keeps up.  I'm skeptical.

For now, I think I'll go and brainstorm evil, maniacal ways to convince someone there is a logical reason to have read all the way to this point.  Seriously.  I think you might be brain damaged.