"It's OK. I enjoyed being kicked in the face."

Not really, but there are times when feeling that way would probably help. Times leaving me needing to vent. The Internet tends to produce a lot of times like that, but if one keeps writing posts about that on one's main blog, one's readers might end up forgetting why one is writing that blog. One's writing is diluted, thinned out as a steady, noxious stream of misery comes pouring in, like the water running through a landfill.

Judging from the fact that you're here, you'd probably like to dip your cup into that stream. That's cool. I don't judge. I just point you in the direction of the nearest drug store after you're done quenching your thirst, and remember not to ask you to bring me any evian on the way back.

Which might be why the comments are turned off on this blog.