This marks my 900th post.
Oooo.
Write something meaningful? Insightful? Symbolic? Interesting?
Nah.
Load up the post with photos?
Too lazy.
Shit talk?
I'm trying to curb that.
Get sentimental?
Hmmm... this one might work, since I'm always on the verge of slitting my wrists and shit (really, I'm not. I'm only being sarcastic here).
Angry Hulk AnoMALIE post?
I keep that shit on Twitter for the most part... or at least I try... maybe because it's usually the closest thing to me when someone decides to wake the beast/rock the boat/piss me the fuck off.
It's a trip to think that if I were to follow the rule of "100 words or more" I'd have at least 9,000 words-worth of... bullshit.
Ha.
But of course, I do have those entries where I only write two or three words like "Fuck this." Or "My grandma died." so that kinda fucks with the word count.
I also have those never-ending entries... the ones where even I refuse to read them.
Curt or verbose. I can never find a happy medium.
900 posts.
Makes me think of that movie, Anne of the Thousand Days.
I think
If each post were a day, then I'd be 100 days away from getting beheaded by my asshole husband.
That movie did a number on me. They should never show that shit to an impressionable 14 year old.
900.
I didn't know I was capable of having THAT many thoughts.
I'd expect my writing to improve after 900 posts... or at least my thoughts to become a little more complex.
But no. I'm mighty monotonous. I might actually be turning stupider. Far stupider.
But that doesn't surprise me.
My apologies, 900... but this old lady is too fucking tired to write any further.
Getting old sucks.
Oooo.
Write something meaningful? Insightful? Symbolic? Interesting?
Nah.
Load up the post with photos?
Too lazy.
Shit talk?
I'm trying to curb that.
Get sentimental?
Hmmm... this one might work, since I'm always on the verge of slitting my wrists and shit (really, I'm not. I'm only being sarcastic here).
Angry Hulk AnoMALIE post?
I keep that shit on Twitter for the most part... or at least I try... maybe because it's usually the closest thing to me when someone decides to wake the beast/rock the boat/piss me the fuck off.
It's a trip to think that if I were to follow the rule of "100 words or more" I'd have at least 9,000 words-worth of... bullshit.
Ha.
But of course, I do have those entries where I only write two or three words like "Fuck this." Or "My grandma died." so that kinda fucks with the word count.
I also have those never-ending entries... the ones where even I refuse to read them.
Curt or verbose. I can never find a happy medium.
900 posts.
Makes me think of that movie, Anne of the Thousand Days.
I think
If each post were a day, then I'd be 100 days away from getting beheaded by my asshole husband.
That movie did a number on me. They should never show that shit to an impressionable 14 year old.
900.
I didn't know I was capable of having THAT many thoughts.
I'd expect my writing to improve after 900 posts... or at least my thoughts to become a little more complex.
But no. I'm mighty monotonous. I might actually be turning stupider. Far stupider.
But that doesn't surprise me.
My apologies, 900... but this old lady is too fucking tired to write any further.
Getting old sucks.
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