Anyone else stunned by that plane crash yesterday? Amazing that everybody survived; the picture of the passengers standing on the wings of the plane as it slowly sank into the Husdon gave me chills. Can’t begin to imagine what it must have been like, waiting for the ferries to come.
Also, I can’t imagine what it must be like to be this guy. People, that there is 8 different kinds of crazy!
Oh hay - in case you were totally like hanging out here scoping out the blog for my edition of the Wordsmiths story for the December challenge, I have an announcement that may give you a few precious moments of you day back that you might have spent clicking back here over and over again like a trained monkey waiting for a banana slice: The story will be up later today. See, I decided to not hate the ‘dead baby’ story so much (which is not really what the story is about, honest), but it’s on the home computer and I’m at work, and it needs a tiny bit of editing (if by tiny you mean 'get out the hacksaw and bite the stick') before I post it here lest I die of shame at its choppiness and sophomoric style.
No, really. I might normally use this blog to post about farts and crazy people, but I’m actually at this moment concerned that my ‘real’ writing won’t hold up to scrutiny. Does that even make any sense? Hey man, I’m a Gemini, I can do stuff like that and get away with it! All y’all Pisces and whatnot can just take a step back from your sniggering at my duality, because I know you’re just white-hot jealous of my ability to be completely and totally unreliable, OCD one moment and utterly lassiez faire the next, a procrastinating perfectionist of the utmost proportion. It’s what I do, it’s who I am, it’s how I roll, all wobbly-wise like a hard-boiled egg on the Hot Wheels track of life.
You’re thinking of that now, aren’t you?
Then my work here is done. Y’all have a terrific afternoon, and check back later for Ye Olde Wordsmithss Storey, won’t you? I have GOT to get back to work.