Poor, lonely blog.
Ye sit here, untended and unloved, a relic from a bygone age. I never post with you anymore, but spend all my time on that Facebook, don’t I? Bastard.
It doesn’t make sense. You’re only seven years old (oh, I’m sorry, 6 years, 11 months and 15 days old…I see you’re touchy about your age). You just got a shiny, new face lift a few months ago. And this is how I repay you? You don’t deserve me.
Well, I’d love to stay and chat about it some more, but I’ve got to go tweet about eating bran muffins. And, frankly, typing more than 140 characters at a time is wearing me out!
I think I see torches and pitchforks in the corner over there, and barrels of tar and sacks of fea—-aaaaaaiiiii!
Dude, I think that your blog and my blog need to get together and have lunch so they can commiserate over their feelings of abandonment and lack of love.
trade ya a cookie for a bran muffin.
I never know what’s going on….