I am a great deal of things, but decisive was never one of them. Which is probably why all my previous attempts at blogging failed; I’m just simply not capable of sticking to one theme. So I give up on themes. To hell with them. What have they ever done for me anyway? Nothing, that’s what.
Okay, so it’s not really the themes’ fault. My brain just doesn’t like being pigeonholed. My tangential leaps could put Olympic pole vaulters to shame. I’m sorry, pole vaulters, better luck next Olympiad.
You see what I mean.
So don’t go into this expecting any kind of rhyme, reason, sense, logic or continuity, because you won’t find it. We’re all about random thoughts, questionable epiphanies, potentially haunted office appliances and Olympian-shaming here, and the sooner you accept that, the better we’ll get along. That and the swearing. Good god, the motherfucking swearing.
Spoken Like A True Nut is the absent-minded brainchild of a woman who, when she’s not pawning off her excess weirdness on WordPress, also takes pretty photographs, sings, and works in an office with a fax machine that is quite possibly possessed by a demon.
Stories are told as I remember them, which may not necessarily coincide with how they actually happened.
Unless otherwise indicated, all names have been changed to protect the innocent, the guilty, the furry, and the secret identity of Cockman. Okay, that last one’s a lie. No names have been changed to protect the imaginary.
Header photo courtesy of my photo blog, Glass Half Delicious.
Spoken Like A True Nut 