For a title, that was.
It's a bit annoying, isn't it, this commandeering tone that Blogger takes? Title. Link. Font. Size. Papers. Body search. Oooh, body search.
Sorry, got a bit carried away here.
Honestly though, do you always have a title when you start a post? I don't. Or I do, but then I might change it because of all those tangents I go off on, and the title ends up bearing no relation to what eventually is the main topic of the post.
Which is not going to be the case today, obviously. Not because the title will be summing up the substantific marrow of this post, but because there is no title. And no substantific marrow, but that's something you've grown quite accustomed to by now, I expect? Cunning, or what? No title, no substantific marrow, you'd almost hope that there was no post, eh? No such luck, darlings, I feel creative tonight.
Listen, those of you complaining at the back, I was going to write about doctors and nurses, and not in that way, you pervs. So, which would you rather have? My errant lunacy and verbal diarrhea that you can quit any time and no one will be none the wiser (that whole fragment might display an appalling lack of structure, grammar, or vocabulary - or all three - but try typing in a foreign language with a keyboard that is not your own and no dictionary at hand, and then we'll talk), or a diatribe against doctors and their insensitive dealings with patients in pain? Diatribe which, need I stress, you'll feel compelled to read because if you stopped reading while I was pouring my heart out, you'd feel guilty - or worse, it'd bring you bad bad bad luck and your blog publisher thingamajig would be down for maintenance for ever and you would never be able to post ever again even though you'd been good all your life and this was a one-time-only lapse. Well, tough! That lapse was the one that mattered.
Or you can quit now because you're really scared that I am really mad (I am). It's all right either way. I lied, you see. Not about the blogging curse, that's not for me to say, the witch forbade me to give any details. No, I lied about the fact that I felt creative tonight. You didn't even suspect, did you? Boy, I'm good. Or evil, but that's a debate I'm not starting.