Ehh

I can't think of anything to write here. I really want to write something, though, but there aren't really any particularly appetizing subjects to write about. Hmm...

I suppose I could always continue my endless rave of my love for cats. Or perhaps I should rant about how much I detest most thing. Maybe I'll write a somewhat pointless story that doesn't quite flow. Or maybe I'll just go for a walk instead of writing something on here. Maybe I'll watch T.V. Maybe I'll make a list of my favorite movies. Then a list of my least favorite. Then a list of my favorite movies that would make any sane person's least favorite list. Or maybe I'll just write about all the things I could potentially write about. Or maybe I'll write about horses. Why horses? Because horses deserve a shout out every now and then, just to remind them that someone cares. Otherwise they forget their place in the world, they stop making plans, their faces grow long(er).. Ha.. horse anatomy joke... Anyways, horses are constantly belittled and they often don't receive the recognition they deserve, damn portrayal of horses in world media these days (or lack there of, am I right? Or am I right?).

.

.... Still, nothing to say. Why? 

Oh well. Good night, world.

That sounds morose, which really wasn't what I was going for, but it'll do.

A little bit for ya

I like to write missed connections on Craigslist. Not because I actually missed a connection, but because I find the idea kind of funny and I figured since nobody (actually, I have a fan base of about 3, shout out to you 3! WOO!) reads my ridiculous stupidity on this bloggy thing of mine, I might as well spread the joy into the depths of cyber interaction. Now I'll usually post the links to the missed connections I write, but they expire, so here you go, an old missed connection that (surprisingly) nobody responded to:


You were trying to convince the barista to re-fill your Santa Clause mug with vanilla syrup and whip cream. She declined. It looked to me as though a single tear fell upon your beard infested face. I'm not going to lie, I wanted to cry too. I admired you courage to wear a beaded bear sweatshirt in public. You turned around quickly after the sting of whip cream rejection had faded, I could tell you were upset. You flew right by me, trying to leave as fast as you could, but your arm hit me on the way out; in fact, it was our elbows, they touched. At that moment it felt as if time had stopped, we were stuck in a perpetual connection through our fleshy, pale elbows. When you made eye contact I noticed that you eyes had a rich noir color to them, perhaps it was drugs, or a serious medical condition, regardless, it was remarkable.
I dropped my purse the instant you broke eye contact, well, one eye did. I think you have a bit of a lazy eye. My purse landed on it's side and all my stolen Activia yogurts were scattered across the floor. I'll admit, I was initially embarrassed that the world was informed about my irregularity; however, you turned around to see the mess and a smile spread across your face, under you delicate mustache. You knelt down next to me and helped me frantically stash back to the security of my Arabian moose hide purse. I was touched by the kindness. I handed you one of my yogurts (peach flavor- my favorite, maybe it's yours too?) as a token of my gratitude. I've never seen anyone eat anything that eagerly and instantly as you did in that moment. There was yogurt all over your face, coating your facial hair like a thick layer of algae on a swamp nestled in the woods behind an abandoned wood mill. It was marvelous.


If you ever want to come steal Activia with me, let me know.
P.S. I love bears.