This writing thing

I don't do enough of it as I should. Rather, I don't write as much as I would like. In the grand scheme of things - where grand=inevitable, scheme=death, things=everyone (TGIF!) - there's nothing I should or shouldn't be doing. There's a life lesson: There is no should, only would.

Ahem, sorry.

Writing, as I see it, requires a few steps: Pay attention to the steady stream of nonsense racing through one's head, have the sense to pluck out the few bits that won't terrify the general public, then stop dicking around and write them down.

This blog exists, as much as a poorly maintained, unread, free Web site can, to make with the funny about sports 'n such. But sometimes I want to crack wise about corn subsidies and the latest antics of that rascal Hugo Chavez, god dammnit. Oh, and the way armrests are clearly not to be used by anyone except for the person at the end of the aisle. Get out of my personal space, you lousy mouth-breather.

So let it be so.

God, don't we all feel better now? It's like the air is lighter, and the Phillies didn't actually acquire Pedro Martinez (See? Still with the sports!).

So. OK. Here we go.