ahem. don't make me do what i am about to do.
you know what else i realized? i get waaaay fucking fewer comments now than i did three years ago. and for that i blame myself. and you. mostly you.
this is a call to arms if ever i have heard one! you are basically telling me that i have failed you, readers. sure i quit for a few months, i have taunted you with abandonment. i have pretended not to care. but in truth i am nothing if not your humble servant. a really, really humble servant. i amaze myself at times with how pure my humility is.
but i feel i need to give you a sign, because you are ungrateful. let me renew my commitment to you! let me reaffirm your faith! mr nice guy is on bended, battered knee for you. speaking of which: i, breeder is dead. i never really wanted to do it in the first place -- writing about my home life for any publisher other than myself made me deeply uncomfortable. also, at work i'm not allowed to type things like FUCKMEAT SHITSTAIN BITCHBUBBLES!
so instead i'm gonna launch a digital media type webbie blog-jigger for my employer, whom i love very, very much. got any ideas? please let me steal them.
meanwhile, i will keep doing my thing over here. i will make this blog bigger, better, stronger and dirty wordier than ever before. it's going to be so awesome that you're going to go insane and hurt somebody you love very much. but first ... leave me a comment or i will grill and eat my newborn child.