Boycott of Blog

I've been boycotting my blog.
My readers are far too silent.
I know not every post deserves a rah rah but it's really starting to feel like I'm writing to myself. I mean raisin utopia...that is not something to be silent about. And then I get these little snippy comments about how busy I must be or if I've had time to post anything as yet. I find it a bit ironic that you all want me to believe I have no readers and still expect me to keep writing. I don't need to write to create masterpieces. I am very well skilled in talking to myself.

This last week I've saved all my thoughts for me with the exception of a few little e-mails that I could not resist. I found that talking to me was a lot more responsive than writing to you. And every now and again my God jumps in with something hillarious and the three of us have a great time (me, myself and I that is).

So! I refuse to disclose my convictions about historical time versus Mythological Time and the implications it has on gender relations. I will not tell you how Pierson O'Brien and I had a good time scaring little kids in a basement with the help of Winston Hall's murder victim. I will not share how breasts can be made to look super disgusting if you pump them up by using your forearms. I refuse, I will not tell, I won't share.