Prickling

If you hadn't guessed already, blogging has become my latest obsession. Not only because it's a good way to stay practised and further my non-existent writing career, but also because it's great for whiling away the hours between asleep and awake that would otherwise be filled with endless streams of bitter tears as I stare at the tatters of my so far cactus-prickled life.

Anyway, I've taken to searching through other people's blogs to see where I'm going wrong, since prettymuchnoone reads this, except the Golden Few I treasure dearly. And you know what I was greeted with? Pictures of fat dogs with their assholes and balls hanging RIGHT out to dry.



Well yes, yes it does. And I've had just about enough of dogs right now. Last night I was woken up at midnight by a DOG. BARKING. Said dog has been barking into the early hours of the morning for the last three months. Boy, did I slam my window so hard it shit itself into submission! But only for last night. I can hear it right now. "Woof! Woof! Fuck you!"

It is RUINING Glee: The Music, Volume 2. Inconsideration to the nth degree.