I feel pretty free since I stopped checking my stats and gave up expecting fb to massage my ego. Massage chen anum, babe; massage chen anum ego's! But altogether it's given me more time to do things like lap swimming and talking to people—I usually stop listening, but it's a start. I like it when I find myself thinking outside of my brain. I think that's progress. I fear, or am just constantly wary of relapsing and checking my stats, you know? And I don't know if I can take the results. I don't want to be the guy kicking trash cans anymore, that's for sure, but I might go back and delete everything if I find I've been talking to walls. I don't ever want to pick up cans and scrap taco receipts again, with tissues and put them back in the bin under my desk. Some times when I'm riding my bike, I'll run stop signs and red lights; and if I notice people watching me while I commit such transgressions, I'll slow down and sing to them that song, "Breaking the law! Breaking the law! dun dun dun, Breaking the Law! Breaking the Law!"
I got a letter in the mail from googlebot saying another one of the blogs was not mobile friendly, and a bunch of stuff like instructions I couldn't understand—I'm just Nintendo—and an error rate of 100 percent, it gave me. But I checked the blog on another phone, and it looks perfect to me, so I don't get why the stupid bot is all up in mine hind parts. It keeps using all this webmaster terminology—like, What the hell are you talking about? I write some stuff down, and I click Post. Sometimes I'll click Post too early cause I'm so excited! If I try to fix the issue, I'm going to have to run past the stat page. It's like seeing a new picture.
I'm going to have to run past it.
Anyway—see anyways is what my tenth grade English teacher Mr. Campbell called a demon—just wanted to say Hi.
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