I guess someone maybe reads this again, so I was thinking I should post.

Then I realized I don't actually have much to say right now. As I haven't for a while, apparently.

But.

BUT!

But, dear reader(s?), what this motherfucker needs isn't new posts. No, it needs that Spielberg shit. It needs that Oliver Stone shit. It needs the re-release, better than before, director treatment.

You got it, it's time for....

BARFLIES AT THE BEACH
Director's Cut: Round Three

In case you don't know what that is, which I expect you don't if you're just tuning in now, or, realistically, even if you've been here from day one:

Once ever few years I go back to the early days, when my bloggery was naught but that of a wee, exceptionally angry laddy, and I add a commentary to all the posts laughing at what a superb fucking nob I was whenever I wrote the post. You can see this in the comments.

I don't think I've ever gotten more than a year or so done before losing interest, and I always start at the very start, but I'm thinking it's maybe that time again.

I might also go through the couple hundred posts that were never finished or posted, and edit them until they're worth posting. It would be nice to start writing again, and this all seems like as good an excuse as any.

I also noticed, while reading back through this here and there, that I really, really need to not have Alana posts on here or anywhere ever. The "funny" story is, as my former dear reader summarized, kind of "holy fuck", and the latter story is nearly felonious. If I'm going to write about things that make me feel like a pile of trash to re-read, it should at least be things that had some kind of point or that I was the sole party to - her being massively fucked in the head isn't something I can go back and change. Neither is me running along with it, but I simply have enough bad memories as it sits.

All that aside, I think it will maybe be nice to start writing some more, regardless of if anyone ever ends up reading this. Wasn't ever really the point anyway.