You've somehow managed to reach my blog. I don't know how, I don't know why, and I don't care. Actually, my Google Analytics account mostly disproves that sentence.
In this blog you may find a unique mixture of wit, hard work, neglect, randomness, copy-and-paste jobs, philosophy, word salad, wishful thinking, harbored ill-will, motion sickness, music, sex, orange pulp, your Aunt Bessie (yes, you have one, but she thought it best that you never meet her for reasons that would become obvious if you did), money-making schemes, skepticism, horrors beyond somebody's imagination, Eagles, sardonic quips, triple-malt Whiskey advertisements, glorious depravity, suntan lotion sales pitches, pessimism, green (the color, the movement, whatever), and other things I'm too lazy and unimaginative to add to this list at the moment. Stay tuned.
“Moving parts in rubbing contact require lubrication to avoid excessive wear. Honorifics and formal politeness provide lubrication where people rub together. Often the very young, the untraveled, the naive, the unsophisticated deplore these formalities as "empty," "meaningless," or "dishonest," and scorn to use them. No matter how "pure" their motives, they thereby throw sand into machinery that does not work too well at best.” by Lazarus Long Robert A Heinlein