Some Blah Blah Blah

To write, or not to write?  That is a good Goddamn question.
For is it better to sit and think, ponder the happenings of the day and the tribulations of the mind for the sake of doing it, or for the sake of doing it and sharing it on a blog where people probably won't read it and don't give a FUCK?
These are a portion of the things which concern my brain.  These are a few of the trite toiling(make plural) of my mind.
For my ass is numb, having been rooted to a chair for some hours now.  And my fingers, why, minds of their own they have, clicking, clicking, clicking away at useless cyberspace buttons.  They--my fingers mind you, not my ass--move with purpose, they make decisions.
My ass moves with purpose and makes decisions, too.  But that, my dear friends, is for another conversation.
Of course, there is a neural pathway, binding my eyes with my toiling brain and my dutiful fingers, and this pathway creates an avenue for the decisions my fingers take liberty in executing.  This picture here?  That picture there?  Does the color fxfxhp#1 match the hue uhfid#48?  Does typing the word FUCK too many times dirty the road connecting the fingers, to the eyes, to the brain?  Interesting questions?  Interesting indeed? Are those questions?  We shall see.
Answers?  I have not.  Questions, toiling, burning, ravaging questions....I have many.
Somehow, keep this in mind dear reader, noble reader, reader possessing questions and toiling(make plural) similar to mine, reader of scholarly integrity, reader of purpose and diligence:  THIS MEANDERING PROSE IS FOR YOU, FUCK GOLLY FUCK FUCK, FOR YOU.
It is for your whimsical entertainment.  It is for your brain to feast upon.  It is so you may enjoy a clickty-clack upon your mouse and a rousing upon your iris(make plural).
For I know you must feast on intellectual banter to satisfy your insatiable yearning for knowledge.  And knowledge is what you shall find here.  For here exists knowledge in its purest form, extrapolating your brain to new limits, pushing the boundaries of your worldly thought to new, extreme heights.
Sequester yourself, just momentarily--for I know you are busy--with you thoughts.  Take the airy time-space continuum and harness it, just for now, just to feel it in your fingertips.
Did you feel it?
It feels like an ant crawling into your naughty parts, yeah?
It feels like swallowing a swallow as it claws and vomits inside your esophagus, yeah?
It feels like giving birth to a Cadillac Seville, which is transporting your grandmother and her groceries, yeah?
AHHHHHHHHHHH......cherish that moment.  It won't come again soon.  Strange and peculiar world events will need to take place for you to experience that feeling again.
A holy man in Bangladesh will need to shit fire and write FUCK in his holy book for this moment to come again.
I bet that won't happen soon.
Alas, toiling(make plural) aside, thank you for accompanying my brain, my fingers and my eye(make plural) on this dastardly journey....to the depths of our minds.
I think?