Not Actually About Anything

So after clicking around the Internet in "bull-in-a-china-shop" mode, I landed upon a positively useful source for any attempting writer who needs inspiration to get the creativity flowing: a random word generator!! Naturally being greeting with the following:

Your random word is: Envy

I couldn't help but feel scared of the Internet, my computer and life in general, for evny be such an ugly concept. If only I was given the idea of "grand envy" I could've easily contracted it to "gravy", but such is the curse of the random word generator only delivering one solitary word at a time.

OK I typed that about 10 minutes ago before going off for a poo. Disgusting, maybe. But you forget, everybody experiences bowel movements. Nobody can deny that they poo from time to time. Heck even the recently deceased grant us with mild flatulence, probably from the beyond. I'm not asking you to visualise it (although now basic psychologoy would dictate that you are now, in fact, visualising it) because I don't! I just flush with my back turned to the toilet.

Another five minutes and I'm quite appauled at myself now. Not only can I not come up with anything decent to write about, I've veered off into the realms of disgustingness and started being... well... disgusting.

I blame "envy" for this. It compelled me to write.

Digressing again, as it seems the only thing I'm able to do well. Never mind, here's an old picture of me with glowsticks for glasses:

There, wasn't that pleasant?

Sorry, I'm getting distracted by loud noises.

This is probably the most sketchy post ever, which is only fitting because it's not actually about anything. Erm... have another picture:

It's the puppet dude in a hat.

I'll stop this now, mostly because I'm bored of it, but also because I've probably killed you with multiple line spaces.

Blame envy.