So, I have had a few people make comments about the glob and its frequency - one of them being my sister. Look, I don’t promise regular posts. And when I post something on Facebook about it, it is usually a comment along the lines of “I think this could be a glob topic.” But that’s not a promise to post. Ok though. I’ll take accountability. I started by changing the name of my glob to "Three times a week minimum randomness." I just think that "Mostly Daily..." was waaaay over-promising. So...Here is my new proposed schedule of posting.
Condasu – I will aim for a NLT 5:30 AM PST post to start the week.
Chursdaw – I will post a second time NLT than 4:37 pm EST.
Caturdaf – though I can’t promise posts on Caturdaf, it is my favorite-sounding day, so I wanted to type it again for the first time in a while, plus I will try a third posting each week.
All other daily-posting-propensity will be totally random. I may or may not post more than that.
On a side note, I get pissed when I want to put emphasis on the word “I” but there is no way to do it in plain text. I mean, usually, if you want to say something LOUDLY in plain text, you can capitalize it. How can you do that with the word “I?”
Plus, does the question mark go inside of the quotation mark? I think so. “What do you think?” he asked. Yeah, inside.
A few things you might want to know. 1) I don’t own a brown shirt. 2) I think one thing is enough for now.
Here is the initial thought behind another poem that I am going to start writing right now. Called “Corporate America”
Because I’d wake up and I’d fight and I’d fall on my sword and I’d try real-ly hard, to get the spark to ignite.
And in spite of me having spite for you, I’d sit tight, and unite and hope that I might get your words to fit right.
Fit on the page and in your mind…(blah, blah, blah)
But I’d have to sit and liss-en to the ones who claimed that because of their smarts they were wise.
All the while, their claims were nothing more than a not-so-well laid out disguise.
It just took me a few years and many tries, to peel open my eyes…and finally realize…that it wasn’t dislike, it was despise.
Hate for rooms filled stupid-ass stories…that were quite boring…I’d try to stay awake but all-the-while my mind was exploring…