Here I Go

Writing a blog post from scratch - not copied or pasted from an email or a scratch elsewhere - is new to me tonight.
I have been practicing stream of conscious writing. Doing it. Repeatedly.
Gobble cuisine to fullest extension of my nervous innard walking style. Did y'all grapple with the gimping gourd of crumpled tether ball beef wellington. If food news is new, I'll know it and then some. To boot your father incredible backwards typing I'll dream you one more sigh up and don't come back before it's more than alright and more than airtight to be you. Call! And finalize the motion. Jennifer deserves a break for once with her terra cotta infirmities to please the almost noxious waves of plaid verbage that racked her apple pie mocha latte glass to shingling dynasties or dinosaurs of inner wreckage to please and to beckon me. Indefinitely.

I have this theory. That to continue to do this will strain my writing to a fine pulp of beautiful condensation. Distillation. Reduced. Reused. Mounted on a chalky platter sky high and wishbone dancing crooked happiness walking. Loveliness drinking to all that want their there...