High Traffic Area

Restaurants are high traffic areas. I've never understood the mindset of "let's make these walkways as small as possible".

I mean I don't mind the tiny booths, the crush of people, or even the wait time that most places make you endure, even when there's nobody else there.

But holy crap, I should be able to back my chair out to use the bathroom without ramming into some other poor soul trapped at their table by the location of our seating and the seemingly poor planning on the part of the management our whomever laid out the godforsaken tables.

You know when you go to a restaurant with your family and you're forced to drag too many chairs over to a table that's only meant to seat two and squeeze yourselves in while some jackass sits in a luxurious four person booth all by himself?

That's me.

I don't want to have to deal with the damn chairs just because I'm rockin' it solo for lunch. Besides.

I got there first.

Snowy Night and Visions Fright

For those of you not in the know, I find sometimes i'm prone to prose. Other times I moan and mose, and wonder where the time all goes.

Life's got a rhythm,
It's true it flows
And anyone who sees
can sew
And anyone who sleeps
Can see,
And late at night I'll find that though
sometimes the days are filled with woe
That everyone,
They have a shield
And when the terrors play the field
And deep below your skin
You yield,
The day will always shine as bright
As deep and dark as darkest night,
Throw up your fists
Prepare to fight,
The world is stuck in horror
Blight,
Just grab the oar or
Take up flight,
And dream away that lonely night.

We all have demons,
Yes we do.

I'll always beat them;
so will you.

Life's got a rhythm,
and yes it flows,
And all of those that see can sew.

For those of you not in the know, I find sometimes i'm prone to prose. Other times I moan and mose, and wonder where the time all goes.

-Blogz (The Great and Powerful)

The Great and Powerful Blogz.

Sometimes I have too much time on my hands. Other times I have too many hands all over my precious, precious time.

I really don't plan on anybody ever finding this blog, or caring very much if they ever do. That being said, go, git, and shoo, what the hell are you doing on my page? The funny thing about this is that you're not going to understand a damn thing about my life unless I tell you. I could be a forty-year old man! An eighteen year old girl, curious about the world and looking for a strong, confident man to show me the way. Hell, I could be some sort of semi-aquatic mammal with a personality and opposable thumbs that's somehow gotten access to the interwebs and a computer.

And learned to type.

I'm probably only going to post here when I'm drunk.

Or, you know, when I'm sober.

Definitely one of the two.