Ironically as I read responses about publishing my old el' bloggo there's a little ditty of a song playing in the background singing "someday some way la la la". Funny, could be a sign, my karma through a speaker.
Needless to say we all have our dirt, our woa is me's, and our triumphs. So what would make mine different than anyone elses? The fact that I'm willing to make mine public? As if the tablods haven't covered that aspect in every angle and crevus of it's grueling subjects. Poor fellas, You can't help but feel bad for those guys. Constantly barraged by cameras and heartless writters and editors. I suppose I should be thankful that when I stub a toe or fall down a few flights of stairs I don't have them running after me and headling my bruised up bum. (hehe, would be funny though!) "Clumst Lady trips on flat surface, what a secptical!!"
Blah, Blah, yah, yah. So here I sit. Thinking on it. Really thinking on it. As if someone gave my gerbil a redline and he's high tailing it in his little wheel. dang son.
I do know this, I would need some SERIOUS EDITING of the large perportion variety. Because I can't put a conjunction junction with my Rufus Xavier Sarsaparilla to save my life. My grammer needs revamping. bad.
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