This is where I write something no one reads.

If you think you're reading this, go back to sleep. This is just a figment of your imagination. Like when Al Gore invented the internet. Figment!

Not to be confused with pigment, pigs or any definitions meant or not.

This is where no one looks when no one's reading.

This is not your brain on drugs. Or alcohol. Or Oprah. Not even on Dr Phil.

This is your mind pretending to see things that aren't really there.

You're good enough. You're smart enough and people like you.

Sometimes.

All the time.

They all think you're hot, and not just because you accidentally sat on the stovetop.

They even like your style. And your class. And that awful gift you gave last Christmas.

They think you're wonderful, sweet, charmed, perfect and scrumptious in every way!

Okay, now it's getting deeper than waist-deep, so I'm gonna have to cut off the feeding tube of my thoughts to your eyes before it causes irreversible brain damage or cellular degeneration.

This page has been brought to you by the creators of wasted time and energy in conjunction and full cooperation with hidden thoughts and masked men. In about 20 seconds, the Men in Back will erase from memory all that you have just read so if you fear a waste of time, fear not.

It's probably already forgotten.

And that's all I have to say about that, which is more than I can say for some but not as much as some have thought to say!

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