My blog is a house.
An old house where the shutters creak in the wind. The paint has peeled off in great swathes, revealing the dry, dusty boards beneath. Vines of ivy have curled up over the whole thing, the lawn grows high above the porch, and on the weekends you can hear kids in bad horror flicks, daring each other to spend the night inside.
That's all going to change. Well, not right NOW, of course; I don't have time to mow my blog's metaphorical lawn right NOW. I'm about to get on a plane and go to Jamaica, yo. This place, if you recall. I'll be back in a week. And then, serious reclamation of this forgotten space will be going down. In the meanwhile, I have it on good authority that someone -- perhaps several someones? -- will try to make a few inroads into the mess. If you see people puttering around while I'm gone, it's okay -- don't call the cops on them or anything. I'm reeeeeally looking forward to seeing what they get up to.
On that note, I'm off. I have a car to the airport to call AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE YAAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA WAAAA HWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGLLLLLLLALALAAA!!!
p.s. Muah! I LOVE YOU.