Babble, babble

I can't find anything interesting to say today. Is this the beginning of the end? Or the end of the beginning? Wiser bloggers may know.
My migraine is over, and as usual it left me on a very pleasant endorphin high for a day or so, when I went around hugging the car mechanics and the bakers and now have all sorts of related difficulties.

I feel an incredible amount of guilt about not blogging on the Iraq situation daily. It's a dreadful mess as anyone who reads blogs knows, and it's not going to look much prettier for a long time. People die all the time there as anyone who reads blogs knows also, and the United States is not exactly managing anything very well. To write about it all seems so futile, but not to write about it seems to give it no importance. So I hover somewhere inbetween, all the time burdened by the blogger's guilt. Maybe it would be enough to summarize the situation as dire and getting direr all the time?

Another blogging area that gives me guilt is John Kerry. He is of course the candidate to vote for in the next elections, as he is the only reasonable candidate being presented for our consideration. But I'd love it if he could give me something better to write about than the fact that he is actually quite human and reasonable and intelligent. Do something, John! Though of course he doesn't have to do anything, as in comparison to his rival he looks like someone zooming fast in the right direction.

And then there is sex. Should I write more about the touch of a questing tongue on the loved one's back than about the feeling of chocolate on the same tongue? So many on the internet look for sex, and I feel like a fraud when googling 'old men having sex with snakes' gives them nothing but my words. Just to clarify: the snakes don't want to have sex with old men or any sort of humans. They prefer to eat them.

The final conundrum is the dogs and their eagerness to blog. I keep telling them that there are hardly any other dogs who read, so there is no market for their endeavors, but Henrietta just wants to fume rebellion and Hank, well, who knows what Hank wants the keyboard for.
They both remind me of my words a long time ago (deep in nectar I was then anyway) that the Snakepit Inc. is a democracy, and they should have equal dibs on the blog. Either that or they threaten to go public with my address. I'm going to send them to e-bay one day.

But one thing I do know: Go and buy some strawberries! This is the time of the year for them.