i just realised i blogged the same quote twice

awkward

i’ll be okay, though, maybe three extra people will read it

in fact you would have been far more inspirationalised had you read that one again

in fact why are you still reading this one, can’t you see it’s about nothing in particular

it is not going to get better anytime soon, i’m almost sure, so stop reading and go and do something else

seriously, you just can’t help yourself can you? you just have to know how it ends – let me save you some time – it’s shtupidt, it doesn’t end, it’s just going to keep on going because now i’m assuming that if you have read this far you actually can’t help but carry on

so really a cruel and unpleasant unkind form of menipulationary mess-with-your-brain-and-shake-up-your-emotions kind of torture, really

okay it seems i was wrong earlier, that was a little bit better – i always get amped to string a whole lot of words together-using-dashes-in-between-even-when-sometimes-like-round-about-now-it-doesn’t-make-sense-so-i-should-probably-stop-but-i-probly-areyoustillreadingthis?-won’t-anytime-soon

is all

okay i guess since you made it this far i can at least reward you with a jack handey or two – pity the saps who made it so far and then finally believed it wasn’t going to get better and stopped just before this – the fools

[time]

[more time]

[not really a lot more time but me writing time related phrases in box brackets to give the feeling of time passing which it is but not quite so dramatically as the effect i am trying to create, or was before i started explaining it all]

[last bit of block bracketed time]

i guess you’re right – for continuing to read this like a blogged out sheep you don’t deserve jack handey which is my way of saying i can’t remember which file i stored it away in or i can but it’s at least four clicks away but what i can do is give you some of these incredibly funny metaphors which i didn’t make up except maybe the last one if i get inspired by the time i get there: enjoy

The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again.

Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.

Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

and then mine: he finished off his tedious sheep-enducing anxiety-endorsing blog like someone who remembered he had to go and write a talk

actually that’s not so much funny as true, i gotta go, it’s been