Anger is a staple of being a Blogist. Blogger. Blog-ite. Whatever. And since I don't have time to put together the blog post I really wanted to write; a charming little story about how I came to be the dictator of a Banana Republic, not the store, but a small Central American country; and since lists are popular, I wrote the following piece of dreck.
Harold Camping: He's the world is ending guy, and he says he's not going to make anymore predictions. Selfish jerk. That's bad for me, because the blog I wrote about him gets like 100 views every week he says the world is going to end. (It's called Man Correctly Predicts The End. Sort Of., if you were looking.)
Money: Why haven't any of you greedy bastards given me any of yours? You probably have more than you need, and here I am struggling to put lobster in my children's mouths, re-plate my gold plated Land Rover, or even pay the maid at the vacation house.
Reality TV: It makes me so mad. I just sit there hour after hour, watching and yelling at the TV for being so stupid. Who watches this crap?! If I could remember how to access the data in a paperback book, I would totally go read instead.
So go ahead, comment. Just don't make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry. 'Cause I whine a lot. Although, I kinda whine a lot, even when I'm not angry. And come to think of it, most people don't like me... ever. So, I guess never mind. Fire away.
HILL BLOCKS VIEW IS DEAD.
...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. email@example.com