I don’t feel like blogging

when that happens all I want to do is whine.

Whining is not attractive. Ranting is more attractive. Roar roar, let’s follow this fool off whatever rhetorical cliff is attached like an Ambrus sketch to the following: alas! alas! she said (picture a small porcelain doll, animated in dim natural light from two directions, flailing on a rag rug in a child’s bedroom) this means that I must come up with a topic! (montage of said porcelain doll, set to martial music, outlining something vague with a wavering stick on what appears to be the world’s smallest square sticky note, climbing up an expressionless and motionless one eyed teddy bear to deliver a rousing speech to the rest of the completely unresponsive toys, tossing a sticky-hand over to the door knob from the highest height close to the door that she can climb, with a book tied to her leg – the music shifts from martial to moody  – you hear a terrifying rip and the door has sprung open, but the porcelain doll has paid a terrible price and -music shifts to glass harmonica horror with processed bowed bass and stays like that for the duration- now she walks a-kilter like a zombie, even though she is not a zombie, and man, it does not do a damned thing for her and she was pretty scuffed up when she started and you’ve only seen her from behind since she made it through the door but now the POV swings round to the front and you realize she isn’t porcelain she’s some kind of icky bakelite in white people’s skin tone beige and her nose has chipped off from her fall from opening the door) for the life of me I can’t think of a topic.