Well I'm at work right now and Bordem Bombards me Blatantly with Breakneck speed worth Bitching about. I'm also Bored with Browsing the once Beckening internet.

Ok, I'm done with the B words. I couldn't really take it as far as I thought I was going to.

For anyone reading this who's thinking there will be a point, a punchline, or a purpose in this passage, I am preparing a perfunctuary and prolonged apology, peppered with a pint of petulance, and a pound of phantastic phrasing, that will probably persevere in leaving a profoundly poignant and pungent imPression. In my present pensive phase, I promise not to be pompous, particularly while in this passive phrame of mind. Pardon any paraphrasing that I may have been participated in. I normally do not partake in any phorms of plagiarism also, lest someone pounce on my person for pretending to be someone else. Please pardon my protruding penchant for psychoanalyzing use of P's. Shouldn't I be properly praised though? You're pissed at me aren't you.

Ok, I guess it's the P words that are going to pop up, parading through my page, in persuit of perfect P pandamonium. (I didn't see it coming or I would have titled my entry "P Words")

Ok. I'll stop.

(You'd think I'd do a spell check if I'm going to go through so much effort to play with words.)

I work in a funeral home on weekends. It is very slow. I've been here 3 hours and the phone has only rang once. I have my drawing books OUT and OPEN, yet they are ignored. I don't know why I won't practice. I really do WANT to learn to draw.

Let me end this totally useless journal entry with a wise quote:

"2 is not equal to 3, not even for large values of 2.

Dang it, you caught me. That was a FAKE wise quote... Here's the real one:

'I have done that,' says my memory. 'I cannot have done that' -- says my pride, and remains adamant. At last -- memory yields.

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ATTACHMENT: a perfunctuary and prolonged apology