Over

Blogging is over. I was going to blog, but it's already over and I missed out.

And I can't do something after it's already over, can I?

And, I'm really good at jumping on bandwagons after those bandwagons have already broken down, and the band has gotten off, and found a new ride to the theater by hitchhiking or some such thing, and the driver of the bandwagon is staring at his broken down bandwagon, looking beneath the hood at what to him is an incomprehensible mess of greasy metal seashells and boxes and wires because he never bothered to learn how to actually fix his stupid bandwagon, and wondering why he didn't decide to do something better with his life than drive a stupid oompah band all over the fucking town!

Stupid, stupid oompah band. The worst of them is the tuba player. The tuba player is everything that is wrong with musicians all rolled into one giant, twisted brass tube. Did you know that? It's true. To hell with his huge, gaping blowhole, or whatever you call the big opening at the top of the instrument where the sound comes from.

There were choices to be made. There are always choices to be made. Make the right ones. That's what the driver of the bandwagon thinks after his bandwagon has once again broken down.

And to blog after it is already over is the wrong choice. So, I can't.

**

Thanks to The Reader of Cute, Happy Books.

Here's an update: The Reader of Cute, Happy Books has some new stuff on a website that you should really go and READ.