What'cha gonna do when the well runs dry, you gonna run away and hide. But big stupid here keeps priming the old empty hole hoping maybe a tiny little bit of worthy thoughts to type might be pumped up. As I realize again that it's failing, I attempt to grasp a positive out of the failed effort. Only thing I've been able to come up with is the possibility that all the priming and pumping might keep the old hole pretty clean and free of nasty sick thought debris that has a tendency to fall into any unguarded available opening. When the pump gets tired I'll try doing some manual stuff that can fill up most of the empty while aligning needed procedure for the task.
Say now! In my defense, before you tally your judgment sheet on my mental state, I might admit to some affliction of stupid but crazy I'm not! The possibility that my oversized body is using a lot of the nutrients or whatever which may be leaving the mind a little short of it's requirements might contribute to the stupid but it's not near enough shortage to do me mentally ill! Oh these lazy hazy crazy days of summer.
"Man's greatest freedom is the freedom of his mind."~Anon
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