It has been a year since I abandoned this blog in favor of a new one. I had aspirations, I did! My new blog would coincide with a new me. The mindless chatter of Brittle Road would be left behind, and good riddance! I would begin a new life, a life far more interesting that the life I led and shared on Brittle Road.
It didn't happen, of course. My new blog failed to meet expectations, just as this one failed. I would blame the readers, but there are none, so I'm forced to lay blame at the feet of the writer. Writers deserve blame, you know. They so often promise things they can't or won't deliver. They play with the reader as if the reader were a private toy, something to be used for amusement. That's what some do, anyway.
The paragraphs above might suggest the reason for this post, don't you think? Well, you'd be wrong. They don't. I'm posting only to keep this laughable snapshot of my history of intellectual atrophy alive; I think blogger.com might eventually kill blogs with no views, no posts, no reason for being. This post is my feeble attempt to toy with the internet, to trick the internet into ascribing some modicum of value to this piece of useless digital real estate. I'll see, in another year, maybe less, whether my trick worked.
Monday, September 23, 2013
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