I'm going to assume that 'you all' have an automatic updater thingy on your fancy pocket phone machines, beeping and snapping your yearning thighs the second I post anew. Yes? No? Either way. If it is just a practical avoidance of that inconvenient, unsatisfying click for a disappointingly un-updated blog--fine. But, if you are indeed repulsed by blog-quality, then please know this: Due to copyright, I must reserve the real treasures for secret places. Google, Blogger, internet-god-owner-monster, could rip this entire blog off. I think. At least that's what my paranoia tells me over and over and over and over and over...
My offerings? Sloppy Seconds. I know, it hurts me too. But someday I can afford a .com, or preferably, a good old fashioned, sprawling family of properly-spined and bound litera-children--full of my 1st choice words. Until then, read this crap. I need you.
My offerings? Sloppy Seconds. I know, it hurts me too. But someday I can afford a .com, or preferably, a good old fashioned, sprawling family of properly-spined and bound litera-children--full of my 1st choice words. Until then, read this crap. I need you.
Dropping me for real life?
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