It’s really annoying when you read something in the morning that gets your brain running with a really good rant and you spend the better part of the day with a small sub-section of your brain whirring away on the best way to put that rant down in words and you even manage to jot down some notes between other tasks, but then when you go back later and look over what you’ve written you decide to change the tact you’re taking with the rant and the more you fiddle with it the more it changes until you’ve completely lost sight of what the hell you were ranting about in the first place and it’s really long and all the bits are now disjointed and make about as much sense as the delirious ramblings of a New York wino who has had waaaaaaay too many bottles of Mad Dog and has smoked a half-kilo of crack cocaine and then been beaten about the head with a large wooden mallet and your heart sinks into your stomach with the dawning awareness that not only do you not know what the hell your original point was, but that you have absolutely no fucking chance even in four hundred lifetimes of ever regaining the once startlingly clear vision of the essence of everything that is wrong with the world and all these idiotic distant cousins of the simians that inhabit it running around flailing their arms pathetically against the rising tide of overwhelming futility that is their their lot in life and if you could’ve just held onto that tiny glowing moment of infinite inspiration you might have put forth a revelation of the ages that would have taken on a life of it’s own and gone on to revolutionize the way mankind views the universe and his place within it, but now it’s gone in a metaphorical puff of smoke leaving you choking on the acrid smell of your own ineptitude at capturing the moment in words so that future generations might benefit from the knowledge your so briefly held in a blinding moment of intellectual overdrive.

Don’t you just hate it when that happens? Yeah, me too.