Blog Children

As everybody knows, this blog is now over a year old  - which means, if there was a human form of my blog, it would be close to its first words, and its first steps, if it hasn't already. It would have enough hair to put in little bows, although I can't see why I'd really want to do that.

So, let's assume it's a bit advanced - already potty trained, can say a few words, can walk for a couple steps before falling. Now would be the time when it would start eating some solid foods while still eating the mashed ones.

To clear it all up: it's 14 months old. A year and two months, plus a few days. As I said, a bit advanced. Could probably eat the stuff inside McDonald's fries - fry guts, my mother called them. A gateway to cannibalism, I call it.

If the blog is any indication, it likes the soft, calming kinds of music. Also show tunes.

Lots and lots of show tunes.

Its name? Its sex? Its appearance? All left to those who imagine it. Think about its appearance. Not put it in a giraffe costume. Fucking adorable.

Why do I call it an it?

Because it's a thought, not a real thing.

If all my blogs were children, I'd cry. The oldest would be 16 months old. There would three 16 month old children. Where am I getting all these children. Help me.

There is one blog younger than WiTMS. The only one younger still is my Tumblr. Why did I make all these blogs. I have too many blog children. I don't know how to delete blogs. Dear God, it's a living nightmare.
-Narwhal Sandkurt