Despite your fervent wishes that I do something productive with my life, I resolutely - defiantly, even - continue my humble blog. I was going to make an extended metaphor (is there another kind?) about keeping it plugged into the wall a little longer, but I've had some experience with that sort of thing, so I will forbear. I know, I know: I was as surprised as you are that life support systems aren't that funny. I think it's the incessant beeping - well, at least one hopes it's incessant. Sort of the point, right?
Well, look at me. Four months absent and I take a decidedly macabre turn in under five lines, and a full seven before I interject an unnecessarily French word. And yes, that grammatical construction was intended: the use of the word is entirely essential, but the word itself is far more "French" than it should be. Try to tone it down a little, "macabre." Why not just French-Canadian? You'd make a killing in Hollywood and be almost obnoxiously grateful and modest about it the whole time.
Admittedly, I'm being a tad more self-indulgent than usual this time out, if only to remind you what you're getting yourself (back) into. Consider yourself warned. I now return you to our regularly scheduled programming: the good Colonel ponderously railing against the trivialities of life in a desperate gambit to avoid confronting the genuinely important matters that swirl around us all, like windstorms and the rampant corruption in professional midget tossing.
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