One Post

I realize how incredibly depressing I am. I have made one post and then neglected my readers. You all have been screaming at me "Byron, Byron! You're posts bring joy to my eyes! I laughed, I cried, your first post was wonderful! I can't stand another second without an addition!" and so, I have decided to appease you mobs of email-flinging fanpeople. Of course, I can't yet again ramble for another page, and a good friend of mine says (and I paraphrasing, I do not have fantastic memory) "your wordwall is amusing, but it is nevertheless a wordwall, and that will not do. Splice your posts with links and pictures, it makes all the difference." And since he is a good friend (recently, he said, and I repeat verbatum "It's without, like, anything." So), I shall take his advice and format, because format is the key to success. I shall now add a picture.

 As you can see, I am a fantastic photographer. I will tell you that one of these legs is mine, and I know plethora of people you are, one of you will have a supercomputer connected to CIA databases that will analyze this picture and the combination of camera type (based of the string hanging down into view in the bottom right corner, which I allowed to happen because it makes it rough and real.), shoe type (you can see two different kinds in this photo, I will not tell you which is mine) and oddly colored floor fuzz, and tell you, supercomputer controlling fanperson, exactly where this happened, and who I am, and how to find me, along with specific instructions of how to kill me (the CIA always studies the weaknesses of those under suspicion. Of course, since everyone is capable of crime, everyone is under suspicion.)That was a very long sentence. I rue the day I will be asked to read this at the signing of my award winning book composed of blog posts written as a smaller person.)
Argh! I told myself I wasn't going to ramble, and yet here I am, looking at my past ramblings! What can I talk about? What is there to speak of? The world? Boring. Fictional dream-world? Nonexistent. And boring. Reality (and fiction, for that matter) continues to stump me. I know what is interesting. Lies. And I already hear your thousands of voices, squeaking at me incessantly "But! You already said fiction is boring! Lies are the same thing!" No! No, I tell you! They are different. In fiction, you know you are being deceived. You are allowing your brain to be tricked. But lies are inadvertent (although, for the liar, it is quite on purpose) brain-tricks. So I think by peppering my posts with lies (as well as fiction, to keep you on your toes.), I will give to the world something interesting. And interesting has been in rather low stock recently. The most recent memes have been utterly uninspired. I call for a cleverness revolt! The citizens of the world need to break the chains of oppression! And who has been the slave-master? Quaker Oats! Down with the Man in the Wig! The oats they feed us in cookies and other "delectable" treats are actually mind controlling cell phone rays that are transmitted from the secret mafia radio in the head of the Statue of Liberty! The more oatmeal cookies we consume, the more we are in their hands! We must break free, otherwise... All hope is lost.

Oh, and