Historical Spot

I realized quite some time ago that my blog was an important spot. Some of the guest bloggers that have come...some of the brilliant things I have said...

I realized that this was the place that the magic happened.

What I hadn't really considered was the possibility that, through historical or paranormal means, this blog might occupy a place in the space time continuum that was relevant prior to my occupying it.

When the FBI first contacted me regarding my blog, I became concerned. I mean, all those men and women with their blank faces and shiny sunglasses are disturbing when they come plowing into your living room (Sorry Agent Dombroski. You know I love ya. But you guys were SCARY.)

So they sat down (after they had 'cleared the area') and we all had a nice cup of coffee (except for you, Agent I-prefer-tea-thanks *rolls eyes*) because you all know I make one hell of a cappuccino... and we discussed the importance of my blog.

Apparently it is located over some sort of a hot spot...let me see if I can explain it in less dynamic terms than they used...

The land on Earth is made through a process of subduction. New ocean is formed at mid-ocean ridges and then subducted back and parts are scraped off when it subducts and that becomes land. In the case of Iceland, it is an unusual island because it is an island that sits on a hotspot on a mid-ocean ridge so it just keeps getting more and more enormous...

Ditto for my blog. Apparently the whole UNIVERSE is going through a process of subduction and ideas and such are being scraped off...and creating new universes or something else complicated (I gotta be honest...when they started throwing out mathematical formulas, they lost me) and my blog is the Iceland of ideas.

And apparently this spot has been around for awhile. I just coincidentally live here now.

*shrug*

Like I said, there was a lot of complicated math involved.

Anyway, they gave me this gorgeous metal sign to keep here on the blog...and now you guys know why THIS blog is special.

Happy writing! (And April 1st...You did know it was April 1st, right?)

A clubbed catfish

Okay... I was watching a movie that used the line, "Don't just stand there like a clubbed catfish."

I love that line. Stupification was never so prettily said as that. I picture a fish, flopping, desperatly trying to get air that then is clubbed.

PETA don't come after me. The only catfish I eat is from restaurants. Generally it involves breading. No clubs. But still, that is a very graphic line.

And a cowboy said it. They have some of the better euphemisms anyway.

That was not what I came to blog about. I sort of went off track. Realigning.

Okay, I posted a blog today of far more merit and class at the Sapphire Blue Publishing blogger.

Link here: http://sapphirebluepublishing.blogspot.com

That blog was about why we need romance. Aside from it making us have an excuse to eat chocolate. It has occurred to me that romance of the real variety is a great chocolate enterprise.

Get ready to follow my logic:

You fall in love. The other person buys you chocolate. For Valentine's Day, Sweetest Day, when they make you mad... it is a chocolate haven.

But then things go bad. You break up. You console yourself. With what?

That is right, my love. Chocolate.

So, things are fine and you are single for awhile. No longer do you need comfort food. But then those same holidays come creeping around.

Not only are they a bit of a bummer if you are single because there is no one to buy you chocolate (okay, and take you out on dates and what not, but we are talking about chocolate here. Stay on my Godiva chain of thinking here. Lindor. Lindt... mmm) but they are a bummer because everyone feels the need to point out to you that you should be bummed.

On the upside, there are post holiday clearance sales... on what? Chocolate. So you buy yourself some. Because you can. The logic you use? You would have eaten it in a relationship so you can rationalize away some truffles in a wave of cocoa bliss.

It is a vicious dark velvety sweet chain of events.

I think I will have some chocolate.

I have a big chocolate ganache covered peanut butter cheesecake. I will share.

Want some?

Hope you all eat a piece of lovely, melt on your tongue chocolate. And when you start to feel guilty about it... blame it on my blog. It is not your fault. I so totally planted the thought in your mind.

:)

*I won't tell that you wanted it anyway*

Oh, by the way... this blog has no calories. Totally fat free.
Unlike my butt.

:)