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My Tenth Article!
...Or what ever you want to these collections of lies and time-consuming slop, which I can only refer accurately to as "things". Whatever their classification, in the past few weeks, I have managed to produce ten of them, including what you are reading now, and considering their worthlessness, and the amount of time it takes me to write one, I feel this is cause for celebration. In a world of opinionated people who know what is funny and what isn't, my little mass of scribblings has managed to survive. Sure, of the 6 billion opinionated people their are on the planet, only seven, give or take two, have visited the site, after much coaxing, pleading, and downright threatening by me, but you like me, you really, really...Now I'm resorting to tired quotes. The end is near.
As I write this, I can not help but think back, to those first few timid steps I took, into the metaphorical lake of the internet, posting only very small "things", before eventually taking the metaphorical plunge, diving into the deep blue waters, to surface further along the bank, and wade through the tall reeds, to explore the wonderous treasures so abundant in nature. I feel at one with the mighty oaks, and tremblings aspens which surround me. Aspens of the internet, of course.
Admittedly, very few of my first "things" on this site could be considered humerous. And several after that were downright boring. But perhaps in being so not-funny, they were funny, in an abstract way. Like Salvador Dali. However, these last two or three "things" I've written contain undeniably not-unfunny material in them. Diagrams are funny. Right? I mean, I can't tell. Are you laughing at any of this? Chuckling? Smirking? What about what I'm writing now? Surely, writing about not knowing whether what a person is writing is funny or not is somewhat funny. In a strange way, I think I just answered my question for you. For me. This is more confusing for me to write than it is for you to read, believe me.
Okay, I gave up on that paragraph, Let's try another one: And as I reflect backwards, I am compelled to look forward as well, as much for predictions about the future of this site as for want of a way to end this paragraph, that I can go to sleep. Who knows where PureDrivel.20m.com will be in another ten "things". Perhaps, I will have been replaced, by public demand, by another writer, perhaps one who can write "topical" or "intelligent" things. Perhaps the repetitive strain disorder of writing these "things" will send me to a hospital bed, clinic, or courtroom. I can only hope for the best.
And I know that ten, maybe even two "things" from now, I will look back on this "thing", as one looks upon a time capsule, read it to myself, shake my head in shame, and realize the foolishness in expecting people to visit this site regularly, if this is the best "thing" my feverish, oxygen-deprived brain can slap together. I will have been so pathetic. I'm not even going to try to correct the tense in that sentence, just end this "thing"(yet another over-used attempt at a joke) before I embarass myself further.
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