I took a walk today. I need to walk more often. There's always so much to think about. So much to balance. It was nice, though. Things look much better when you relax. Everything falls into place, right where it needs to.Someone sent me an article about how terrible our future is. It's all very doom-and-gloom. Oh well. That's how it goes, I guess. I'm not too worried. For the foreseeable future, things are the opposite of doom-and-gloom--whatever that may be. I have an urge to look at some stars. Time to get the telescope out.
This is something I feel very strongly about. So strong are my emotions about it, in fact, that I have haphazardly drafted this singular post about it on the fly. I hope, for your sake, that you are seated as I deal with this incredibly important social issue and say controversial things--the likes of which give women the vapors. Shorts. I fucking hate shorts. I hate them because you can't look cool in them. Think about it. Have you ever seen an action hero save the world wearing shorts? No. Action heroes wear pants. Men wear pants. People who save the world wear pants. Pants, pants, pants. Nobody wears shorts excepts, like, stoners, lazy guys, and dudes. And bros. Those archetypes do not do adventurous things. Indiana Jones? Pants. Robocop? Pants. Flapjack? Pants. Bear Grylls? Pants. Australian stereotypes? Shorts. Australia really likes to try to censor their internet content. That doesn't sound so awesome and/or manly to me. To prove my conclusion that shorts a
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