The contents of this post will change once I actually figure out the results of posting with this program. It's an interesting looking whatsit, but it's yet to be seen whether or not the end results are sufficient for my needs.
My extremely exacting standards are hard to sat
You wake up, and realize you're a tremendous dork. A villain without any particular reason for his dislike of the world around him. Looking up at the sky at the end of the day and thinking you'd want to see it curled with smoke and a bloodstain filter. Red clouds, puff pieces swimming in the sky wrapped in diamond dust.
Grinning, he spun in place, raising his arms above him as he moved. "I'm just a pretty little princess!" he shrieked, grabbing a pie off the marble countertop and flinging it erratically at my face. After dodging the flaky menace, I found myself under a deluge of baked goods.
"This is ridiculous!" he yelled as I ducked behind the door to the living room to avoid a platter of flans. "Absolutely bonkers!"
I don't think that it's a good idea to wear striped pants. I could wear a suit everywhere, but then I'd just look like a tosser. It wouldn't be appropriate for baking, I can tell you that much.
Writing's like a muscle, and it must be exercised often. I don't get much exercise, even though I've bought plenty of memberships to this gym.
I guess the problem lies in that I can't make myself do things easily. Still, that's hardly a mystery, and this is not revelation theatre.
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