I got nothin’. You?

I have nothing to say.  Nothing of interest.  You could not have low enough expectations to appreciate the true worthlessness of this page.  Which is why I made it a page.  I’m sure to feel like this most nights.  Why repost it so often?

For tonight, I’m burned up, burned out; I’m a bit toasty.

Usually I’m fairly witty, humorous to a fault.  As unconventional as reality permits. Usually.

Obviously not always.

Now if I were to go on and attempt to expound on the concept of how no content becomes content in itself as an artistic representation of unblogging, I’d risk adding valid content to this page, and that would be totally unacceptable in my present condition.  I would then be required to respond to friend and foe alike with mental dexterity and poetic skill.

I’m just not up to it.  I lack the passion it would demand.  I am a lazy turd of a blogger.

I’m too pooped to post.