This is my first blog post and it will probably be my last. Perhaps you're wondering why, or perhaps you're already bored out of your tree (though what you're doing in a tree, I regretfully do not know). If you're not in a tree, I'll tell you why I shan't be blogging anymore: I'm doomed. I'm going to die. Why? Because that's what people do! As well as dying quite frequently, we humans (of the English variant) also have a tendency to start sentences with the word "because" despite that (apparently) being grammatically incorrect... I should probably look that up. Misuse (and overuse) of commas is also quite prevalent, but that's not why you're here. At least, I hope it's not. Though being possessed of considerable intelligence, even I don't know why you're here. It is quite improbable that you're here to read my blog, so I'll surmise that you simply don't have enough cats in your life. Being me, I do know my I'm here. I do know that I am here because I'm typing about death.
Now, here's the thing you need to know about bloggers and people in general: we don't tend to recover from doom. I, though not a blogger, not yet, am prone on the floor, awaiting my own. Despite it looming over me in shadowed form, this unspecified doom is as unfrightening as it is anonymous. One might stare fearfully at the British wartime propaganda poster on the wall, depicting a most dreadful creature with the nightmarish tendency of exterminating anyone dissimilar to itself. No, I'm not talking about Nazis, though I do have much to say about them, none of it good. However, Nazis are not the subject here. The subject here is death.
As someone once (or twice, or thrice, or...?) said, "Death is all around us." Indeed, if you imagine Death to be an eerie cloaked figure or a dark groping mist, then perhaps, in your delusional mind, it is. If you're rational and sane like me, then you'll understand that these numerous (possibly four) people are not being literal. Not at all! Myths and fairy tales are enjoyable but should not be confused with real life, even if being open to the facts scares you or makes you uncomfortable. Personally, the idea of a creepy skeleton lady with a gigantic scythe scares me more than just dying, but as the Prussians misleadingly said each time they viciously attempted to Germanize the Poles in Poznan and Royal Prussia, "To each his own."
Where is here? Why, here is the internet, of course! The internet is a magical place. A magical place packed full of cats and... cats, and... other things. I really love cats. Cats are small, furry, and of late, rather grumpy creatures that hail from Africa (don't we all?). Cats die quite frequently, unfortunately. One minute they're there, the next, they're gone. This is accentuated by their relatively short lifespans compared to ours. We enjoy their company (they don't enjoy ours), we feed them, water them (not like a plant, but you'd know all about those), clean up their waste (they do a fine job of it on their own, burying it under the sand), and generally care for their every need. They're like gods. Except unlike gods, cats actually exist, which might possibly bring me to my first point.
Though I may have insinuated otherwise, I love Prussia. Whilst brainstorming for ideas about what to write for my first ever blog post, I was originally going write- type, sorry, I'm typing. On a keyboard. Not writing. I absolutely loathe that small error, as inconsequential as it may seem. As I was sayin- typing, I was originally going to type about Prussia's history and its effect on modern day Kaliningrad. For the sake of your inferior brains, alas, I decided it would be for the best if I just rambled on until you climbed into your trees and never returned.
Seriously, leave. Go. Shoo! GTFO!! I'm sorry for this post and I'm sorry for wasting your precious time when you could be texting or petting your cat (you do have a cat, don't you?) or going for a nice nighttime walk. I apologize for my ill attempts at humour and I'm sorry for trying to writype a coherent article. I'll leave you to your business and I hope you'll leave me to mine. What that is, I don't yet know, though I will be departing soon to watch series 4 of Being Human with my best friend. YES, I HAVE FRIENDS.
I'll add the titular disclaimer at the end just to make you angry: Fear not, this is merely an introductory post to test my skills as I have neither written nor typed anything in months. It will mostly consist of mindless, vaguely interesting, pompous, and pointless babble, courtesy of me. The next post shall contain substance! Mirth! Life!! ...Not that anyone will be around to read it. I've got a terrible track record. If you're still interested, it may concern beautiful women. I'm also really sorry in advance for trying to make up my own lame portmanteaus. And for lying. 'Til death do us part, dear reader(s) unknown.
