essence of rantings

Ah. Yes. Rantings are not really my specialty (however they are the specialty of rantsesh) but I'm bored and it's cold and my grandparents are watching the telly so I'm going to rant. WAIT WAIT CONCENTRATION FAILING WHAT WAS I GOING TO RANT ABOUT oh right yes, good, I remember.
And yes, I do know that I could have not typed that moment seeing as you would NEVER HAVE TO KNOW but it was incase that the memory really had gone and I really want to actually post something.
Blogger is annoying me.
You know the little button up the top of blogger blogs that says "next blog"? I regularly click that out of boredom (note: boredom probably means "ugh I should do maths/Latin homework but I don't want to). And just about all of them are really boring, often families talking about mediocre things their wonderful kids did and how much they love god or people linking to random internet places. Seriously. I might as well do that Pliny-assing Latin.
And then I think "I wonder what people would think if they "next blogged" me."
Hmmmm.
Yeah.
No.
Okay.
I bet I seem really narcissistic. And annoying. I bet my blog would be boring to most people. And I bet they'd think I'm a real loser.

BUT I DON'T CARE.
I like blogging. It's fun, and theraputic... even if I am just uploading images of me making funny poses on my front deck. And it's weird that I'm writing this like I have lots of followers because I don't. I have two. Both of them are my friends, and both of them haven't been on in ages.

SO.
Yeah.
That's it.
I know it was pointless.
That was kind of the point.
Don't think about that.
You'll parodox yourself out.