June 21

Grumble.

As much as it would seem I hate to admit it, it is as though Hamilton is my "natural environment" when it comes to keeping my loyal readers (who are, admittedly, in dwindling, dangerously low numbers) satisfied. No song aptly - at the time - named "Of a Week". No more poetry from a yesteryear Me, one full of envious, boundless energy and enthusiasm about the most juvenile things and convoluted romanticized visions of "love". There's actually this one where I compared love to skating. I know, right? Ridic. And this other one? It was about how many different varieties of the colour green there were. Da-dum.

I've posted two videos on facebook in the meantime (well, three, but two of them are just version 1.0 and 2.0 of the same...'unique skill'). But vlogging - wait, that's what the video blogging Portmonteau is? That is weak - is not my sort of thing. Especially not with the limited filming space my laptop gives, i.e. a room that resembles a 7-year-old's nursery, complete with poster of the original 150 Pokemon, as well as a ludicrously expensive Transformers Optimal Optimus on my shelf, adjacent to now-dusty and forlorn houseleage soccer trophies of a once-former glory...and next to a toy car playset of, of all things, a parking garage. How exhilarating.

But wait, who am I honestly trying to kid - my FisherPrice Parking Ramp Service Center?
It is The Shit.