I’m going to tell you about my friend, Soda. That isn’t his real name, that is the nickname we all gave him after his wife had her first kid and we knew he was going to be a pop.
He was so excited about having a family, that is the only time I ever saw him absolutely smashed. In fact, I remember when he saw me heading up to his house to congratulate him, his face lit up and he tried to wave hello, but it just didn’t work. He was just too plastered to operate his own arms.
That entire event reminded me of the time I wrote on this blog about quantum particles and how they had no problem passing through plastered walls. Now, that may seem like I’m taking liberties with the language, but it’s for a good reason.
Soda is the one who suggested to me that you, (yes you) have an addiction and that I need to address it. He says you are addicted to this blog. You have to come here each day just to see what I’ve written about next. You can’t help yourself.
He suggested that if
I were a responsible blogger, I should write something so ridiculous, so
incredibly stupid that it would snap you out of your Bloggy Trance.
How’d I do?
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