My Penis.

I'd like to take a moment of your time to tell you about my penis, I've also decided to name the entire post after my penis. This is because it takes a full blog post to talk about my penis and really take it all in. It's the kind of thing you do when you're boasting - you'll sit the person down and be all "Look I hope you didn't have anything planned this evening because my penis needs like 6 hours of straight up attention for you to really bask in it's majesty".

This is also going to help up my viewership because the amount of people that search for penis on the internet is an astoundingly high number.

Back to my penis - here is a picture.

A deep analysis of the insomniac brain.

Sit by me Ralph, but not in the little chair because you've grown a little since last time we met. You'll need to sit on the floor now because you've outgrown the only chair I had for you and now I just don't know what to do. You see, since you've become larger I've become a little... hesitant to give you anything interesting for the simple fact that, and this is in the nicest way possible, I'm afraid you'll run away and eat it, but you're not terribly clever so it'll get lodged in your throat and then you'll need to go to hospital and then the doctors will see the interesting thing on their charts and X-rays and they'll tell the nurses and other patients about it. Leaving us with this special bond between writer and reader completely shattered, as well as me havingto deal with people coming up to me and talking to me about these interesting things, and why I talk to personified audiences as if they were small children. Then the courts will get involved and I'll have to meet all of my neighbours and tell them I'm a terrible person and to keep their children away from me because I'll make them eat interesting things.

I give you these stories in the hopes that you won't try and eat them and if you do want to eat them and get bigger you'll have the common decency to ask me first so I can tell you the correct way to eat the interesting things. Now that we're clear on that Ralph, we can begin.

I am not feeling too good right now.

About Me.

You see that little widget over to the right there Ralph? The one that says "About Me" then has a picture of a half-blind cat? Apparently it has a character limit. I had something nice up there originally with everything you needed to know about me, along with some things you probably didn't need to know, a few things you probably shouldn't need to know and quite a few things you probably didn't want to know but because you're polite you read anyway. There were so many words there and they all helped to weave a magical tale of exactly how I came to be.

Can you guess how I figured out that there was a character limit on that About Me section?

If you answered "There should be a notice somewhere that shows you before you end up writing what equates to being the Homer's Odyssey of About Me's" then Google believes you're as functionally retarded and textually-verbose as I am. You are also wrong.

If you answered "You probably got an error message saying there was too many characters, to hit back and try again", you either work for Google or should work for Google, because you're a thinking man's Ralph and that's who they hire.

If you then guessed that I did hit back, only to find my browser crash and reopen to an empty page with no backup copy of my self-describing avalanche of words - you are either psychic or or have already read this entry (I'm glad that you wanted to read this again instead of doing something important).

Seeing as how I'm pretty sure actual blog posts hold no limit, or none that I've reached in my years of endlessly rambling on about what kind of pie I like (pumpkin), coupled with the fact I am now saving this after every sentence both online and on a notepad file - here is my 'About Me' (abridged version).

2009.

I've got a confession to make, Ralph. Come and sit in the chair whilst I gently give you the bad news.

You know how I told you I was going to tell you all about the year 2009?

I lied.

Well this is odd.

I'm not normally like this, with the whole posting something every night - I'll post something up occasionally but it's very rare for me to post two days in a row, I don't know why I chose to write another thing. What I do know is that I'm incredibly bored right now and have no one to hang out with I just went and picked up Adam from his girlfriend's house. We watched MIB and he fell asleep and then I watched MIB2 (Or MIIB if you want to go off what the DVD says). I did the hospitable thing and put a blanket over him and returned back here about 4 hours after I wrote the line about not having anyone to hang out with. I wonder if I have some sort of wish-granting blog, that would be pretty cool.

GEE IT SURE DOES LOOK LIKE I HAVE NO MONEY, NOR DO I HAVE ANY SORT OF RELATIONSHIP WITH A FEMALE.

And nothing - looks like I'll just need to talk to the internet some more until either of those things fall into my lap at any point during my words.

Hi The Internet! I'm sure we will be good friends this year! Hell, maybe even next year too!


Oh dear - I can't go around just talking to "The Internet", that sounds retarded. The internet needs a proper name. One that I know all of the people reading this collectively will not have, one that I can pretend is a young go-getter to whose shoulder I can put my hand upon and regale the vastness of the universe to (I've seen bigger). One that will look up at me wide-eyed with excitement whenever I look down at him disappointedly, and one that will make me laugh when I'm feeling down.