My Headers are Better Than My Body

That’s what she said. Hey-o! But seriously.

At night, after doing countless word search puzzles to calm my wandering thoughts of loss of self worth, I tend to jot down ideas for things to write. As of late, namely blog entries.

The same goes for when I’m at work slightly adjusting Depends Grownup Diapers. After thinking that my future will probably entail myself making a mess in my pants, I think of random ideas to write about. They all seem grand at the time and I save them in my cell phone as a draft. And they sit there for what seems like forever since I seldom remember typing them in.

One thing seems to be clear, though. All of those clever titles or ideas that seemed interesting at the time never seem to translate to something of substance.

Which is sad, because I have so many great titles that invoke a discussion on using babies as sponges(they are soft and maleable). Or using sponges as babies (they clean up nice). Or nixing both and just getting yourself a coffee and a frisbree and playing catch with yourself while preaching to no one in particular about the uses of sponge preventing babies.

Point being, there is no point. This is possibly the worst post out of many posts that are just awful. I apologize.

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