Well shoot

So I've been staring at my last blog entry, desperately trying to muster up something to write about. Work is still frying up my brain in a big ol' corporate saucepan, so unless it has to do with Sam's Club, Payless or the Kansas City Art Institute, I've got nothing of worth to offer when it comes to commentary.

I thought about writing about what I've been up to lately. But I didn't think my reader(s?) cared to know about the status of my attempts to grow out my finger nails. (Eight of them are growing strong. Thumbs are nubbins. I can't figure it out.)

Then I thought about writing about what I'm going to do in the near future. But there's only so much I can write about Royals games and the pending opening of MLB season. (I live at Kauffman stadium. No seriously, I've considered re-routing my mail there for the next six-month period.)

I've gone on two mini-trips in the last month, so I could share pictures. But we should probably talk about how 98% of them are of animals. I'm not sure how I figured out that math, but I'm going to assume it's accurate. You should do the same. And I should assume you're not interested in seeing said pictures.

So if anyone has any genius introspection of how I can leap over this mound of freak un-inspiration, holler.