I come before you with a heavy head. Yep you read right! Me head feels five times fuller.
What yee are askin'? ( I'm sure glad you ask, otherwise I could not answer!") At this exact moment in time it's 12:44 AM, 5/18/2014. My eyes are swollen from either allergies, sinus, err somethun, errr maybe stupidity. I can barely make out the words on my screen. Shite happens you know! Usually I get this in late April, every fricking year. I'd hoped to escape it this year but nooo!
(By the way I may leave all my misspellings in, simply because I don't feel like going back and ficin' them, plus I've ben wanting to write a post with all them left in.)
(What is ficin? I don't know but I find it funny, I'll say fixin' onle me fricked up! Yeah that's what it means!)
WHY? HELL . . . THAT'S JUST ME AND I GET A CHUCKLE AT SOME OF THE WURDS I COME UP WITH~!
Ya see the PROPERNESS of these here wurds, means diddly-squat to me. How can that be? I write fer the pure fun . .. those of you who follow me, a, a, ,a knows, I make up my own words and have no style. Some how the wurds said in my head are not the proper way sometimes, and I always go with what my mind says. WHY? Damn y'all out there ask a lot O qwestions tonite.
( Tell me now . . . did, or did you knot, comprehende the last sentence?)
Soo,,,, what do it matter?
I matters not to me. I'll be me, and you'll be you. That's what matters to me! Kain't be whom yer not, can try, but, the real you will come thru.
I cood be layin' down, a feeling surry fer me-self. I'd rather be sittin' here at the key-bored, with one hand holdin' my head up, and typin' with one hand, than to be in bed a fealing sorri for me-self. Sides I woodn't have anything to post.
"To Be Or Not To Be." ((( I just love that line!))
"To Be Or Nor To Be": Spoken by Hamlet, Act 3 Scene 1
To be or not to be; that is the question:
Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortunes
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?
To die to sleep no more: and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is here to, 'tis a consumption
Devoutly to be wish'd, To die to sleep:
To sleep perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub:
For in that sleep of death What dreams may come
Sheesh-ola! I think I'll take a chance at understanding what he's a sayin'! This ought to be a riot or not! I confess to not understanding Shakespeare. I also confess to not knowing proper English!
TO die is nobler than to suffer, or to fight the pains of life. Eternal sleep shall end the heart aches. To live in dreams forevermore.
SHEESH!!! HE SOMETHUN AIN'T HE?