Why’d they let me on here?
No telling! But they did.
I write this from the basement engineering library at UT Arlington. So take a note: I have a migraine headache and a service revolver in my desk. Your response: Note taken. Why that made it to print I cannot say, but it did so deal.
Truth be told, I’m waiting for the end of my fiance’s shift. After this we’re headed back toward McKinney where the dude with the nose piercing gun awaits her. I’m excited.
Random musings aside, introductions are in order. Me Jon, you reader. Nice meeting you. In the future, I may write something interesting, or legible for that matter, brightening your face, causing intelligent introspection, or igniting violent hatred between our families lasting one thousand generations. Intelligent and interesting I strive for; starting war and suing for peace warrant little attention. Greg’s rules mean little. I don’t play childish games; when I write, the words reflect my innermost. (Just for clarification, the evolutionary community thinks it possible life on Earth did emerge from Mars, carried here by meteorites. The conversation may not be so ridiculous as master Gregory implied…)
Fair warning: Uneducated individuals cannot make sense of my writing. I write for my own pleasure. To that end, the structure of each sentence garners more attention than most full blogs and the wording greater research. Stylistically heavy in simile and analogy, I write as though each word deserves sharp and exacting scrutiny.
In closing, my appreciation goes out to my care-free brother Greg. Thank you for the opportunity of collaborating with WakingPain.