Queensbury Rules? Put 'em up, then.

Joining the ranks of the Vestibule Virgins? I thought not. A lie predicated on truth is merely a half-truth. The vast wastes of space between your thighs…are merely vast wastes of space. I haven’t had much to say on here in some time. This is not to say that I have been devoid of any actual words or thoughts to convey, but I have seriously overestimated your ability to understand even half of them. So, in an earnest interest to keep your lovingly simple minds at bay, I have continued to allow the white noise of non-updates soothe and regress you back to a simpler time. Say, last Wednesday. Of particular note, I am working on a short piece that I will soon present here. I will then, at some point, at some discretion, based on my understanding of things only I can comprehend, steer this space into that space, that space being the space I believe this space to be heading towards. That said, done, and finalized, I will herewith make this update. Of interest to no one is my soon-to-be new job. July oneth, I will start with new title in hand, new responsibilities on paper, and new amounts of money in bank. If. If, and only if, everything proceeds well enough, though it already ceeds itself somewhat. I hope not to concede this, and I rather expect not to. Oh, Boredom. Oh, many armed goddess of Boredom. Why do you spin in circles that envelop enough dust to choke a field mouse? I ask not because I care, but because I know someone who cares less than I.