Yeah, Fuck um all.

Does anyone remember that movie Magic with the dummy? No, not Ann-Margaret, the plastic dummy.

There is a scene in it where Burgess Meredith knows there is something amiss with the ventriloquist played by Anthony Hopkins. He challenges Tony to not use his dummy's voice or thoughts for five minutes. He fails the test.

This is much like my writing a blog. I can stop for a week, maybe two but in the end, if some of the stuff I write isn't being seen, it feels like it doesn't exist.

Much like looking at the toilet paper after you wipe.

Every word I have ever written has been saved. Unfortunately, sometimes I forget where I saved it and it gets into the wrong hands.

Oops.

However, it occurs to me...isn't opening up someone's folder in an old computer like opening up someone's diary? And if this is the case, if one is to read shit that pisses one off, shouldn't one take some responsibility for it?

Justification at its finest.

Perhaps I should keep my ramblings to my opinions regarding topics familiar to us all...

Yeah, right. I am still going to abuse all you fuckers and if you don't like it, don't read.

Now fuck off.