Esteril

I realize the look of the blog is a clear cut absolute synonym for sterility. Blank. Sort of reminds one of the highschool joke about books: teacher, there aren’t any pictures in this book. As far as blogs are concerned this particular one violates all rules for success. There is no entertainment for the Iris. Blah is as close as it gets to diversion.

No Pablo ingl├ęs.

Pablo Francisco was/is in Sweden. I love that guy. He sort of embodies all my possible silliness. Dude, that blog is so blah you know. Eitherway, get a peek if you will: Pablo Francisco: DN.se

I guess I ought to spiff it up, or as some of the kids now a days say, in all their naiveness of course, pimp it up. Dude, pimp my blog.

Ah, humbug. The whole exercise of the blog is to have fun too, you know? And I haven’t been having too much of it here, I see. Boy, I hate when am sarcastic to my own self, or do I?

In a more serious tone I suppose that, hey! get a load of those self controlled norms I just applied to myself, ahem, as I was saying, I haven’t had the time or will or ganas, to do anything on this blog. I need like a million dollars to do something with it I suppose. Well as that isn’t going to happen anytime soon and to aggravate the matter more I have of lately been weening myself from the net. Sure, I give it more or less the same attention as always but not timewise. Mostly because am doing a Masters on English and that sucks time galore. In retrospective I should be doing some reading thereby but the stress is just killing. It actually feels good to get back to the old leatherbacks of the books.

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