rainy

Just a little rain that's all. Or so I have been told by a certain zeppelin made out of led. That's right, it is raining here in the algid depths of Melbourne's winter. And also in my soul.

The reasons are perched high atop the languid canopy of this disinformational blog and its throng of heady onlookers and can not be confabulated within this medium. This is no insult to you, my gracious reader, as I split the infinitive to wholsomely relate to my cyber compatriots that their worth is great to me yet the content I wish to express convenes precariously between a social deliverance of sorts and that of personal, benevolent council. Other reasons may include laziness, paranoia, cards, electronic pool cues and even the unconsummated fates of and between loved ones, both brotherly and other respectively.

None to the less, unemployed and with little exciting news to share with you after my delicious escapades around the globe I have resorted to promiscuous verbs and hearty adjectives to fill this literary void in our lives.

Today is my dream brother Omar's birthday. 19 is an eminent number and I pray it has healing properties too. We will find what Harry Potter has to say on the matter tonight. And regardless of what I may have previously thought of this young man, any friend of Omes's is a friend of mine.