Lessons from the Randomizer

One little button, so much time. Oh thank you, thank you Lane!! (I hope you don't mind too much that I somehow read your addy as Pinkle Pants.) The randomizer is like clubbing by blog for a washed-up 30-something recent breeder like myself. With this in mind, if I found myself living as a Matrix battery, I don't think I'd be one of those to reject the program. Blue pill, blue pill!

My identity, were I (any more of) a superhero, would be THE RANDOMIZER. But really, if you have eight or nine hours and a morbid curiosity click on that thingy over there --> that says "Hit Me". I am nothing if not a student of life my dears, and here is what I have learned:

~There are a lot of sickos on the internet. Not that kind- I mean the viral sickness incubator type. Judging by the number of posts listing often disgusting symptoms, it's a very good thing we ain't all in the same room.

~Some really do post about what they ate, (like the book says) and as long as they include pictures I'll still read every word. I would never do something like that.

~There are a ton of Portlanders. Lots and lots. Also a woman in Istanbul, a guy in Hyderabad and a woman in Africa. Hi! There are also many musicians, including at least two violists. I am but a cog in the clone army.

~I found a guy working for the Japanese Department of Education, just like I used to do. Lately I've been so nostalgic for Japan, and I can't wait to go with my men. Even a shopaphobe like J will love the dollar stores.

~Lastly, I have one small observation in regard to style. Writing without use of the shift key a la ee cummings and in long run-on paragraphs is the equivalent of baring your midriff, wearing leg-warmers and lodging large pieces of cheap jewelry in your navel. And both looks make my optical nerve curdle just a bit. I'm too old for that crap and I'd need a monitor the size of Whales to read it. Just say no.