It’s getting harder and harder to keep bringing the 7 eyes of 3.5 readers to this wonderful site. Also, I’m no spring chicken.
I’m unsure of the future. Perhaps I will turn over the keys of BQB HQ to my arch-nemesis, the International War Criminal/Incredibly Boring Snow Monster, “The Yeti.”
Perhaps I will dump a bottle of hot sauce on my head, then go swimming in a shark tank.
Maybe I will ask Fergie to serenade me. No, scratch that. Fergie is a national treasure. Screw you all for making fun of that goddess. She brought us so much joy with her humps, surely we can spot her one error in judgment.
I think I’ll just lie down in my backyard. Watch the butterflies flap their wings and let caterpillars crawl all over me until the moss and grass just grow over me and consume me.
Perhaps none of that is necessary to not blog anymore. Or maybe I’ll sub-contract the blog out to some hired help. Maybe I’ll just watch movies and eat pizza and hire a team of sentient iguana typists to write this blog for me and I’ll pay them in flies.
Surely, they couldn’t do any worse.
What say you, 3.5 readers?