Okay, by this point I’m now sitting down trying to crank out blog posts as an attempt to look like I’m keeping this thing updated when in reality all I’m doing is setting them to auto-magically post twice a day. It is here, now, as I write my fourth one, that I realize my attempts at blogging are flawed.

Most people can blog because they have something on their mind. I don’t really have much of anything. Nothing interesting, anyway. I don’t have any good stories that aren’t fictional; I’m not the kind of person that goes out and does interesting stuff. And my mind is pretty well empty except for the bits that pertain to story-writing, which are firing like crazy.

Maybe I’m just a boring person. In which case, why the hell are you reading this?

So uh (searches for something to talk about) blogs. They’re for obsessions, right? Of the non-embarrassing sort? Well, I’ve got a minor one right now, and it’s got to do with the script that’s sitting to the left of my computer. It’s a musical called Little Shop of Horrors. Where they got the idea of a dancing, singing plant that eats blood, I will never know, but I’ll bet it involved heavy drug usage. I’m looking forward to seeing it at the PaperMill a few Sundays from now.

Here’s a link to distract you from the fact that I have nothing whatsoever to talk about:

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