Oof, where to begin? I’ve been busy doing life things (so say we all, given the rather unappealing alternatives), but have not enjoyed the intermittent reminders from this website that I had “content” to moderate.

“Content” being of course the millions of admirers and followers I have amassed over the course of my storied career as a tastemaker, influencer and wheeler-dealer.

Or maybe it was innumerable spammers telling me how excited they were to find my site and how insightful my posts were and that I should checkout their site or look at some sexy milf pics.

After previously logging in only to prune all the comments, I’ve finally updated all the things. I’m not terribly happy with how unresponsive the design is right now, but it’s serviceable. I’m a bit annoyed that Instagram shut down the scraper I was using for posting photos. But then, I don’t post anything but stories these days, so I suppose it’s a wash. Perhaps I will write more often.

While I have no pretensions that folks give a shit about what I have to say, I do find it a bit cathartic to put finger to key. And in today’s what-the-fuck-is-going-on-with-everything world, that’s not something to discount.

I type this on the eve of the midterm elections, the results of which I fear will accelerate the decline of the US as a global power and beacon of hope and freedom.

Perhaps, not unrelatedly, I’ve turned off comments. That’s until I can get my “$5 a month to post all you want on my blog” service off the ground.

[This post was typed while listening to the excellent Natural Brown Prom Queen.]