Pesky Work Got In The Way Of A Good Read

I was going to read all day, and somehow the idiots got the better of me and I got no reading done.

Questions, questions, always questions. So many questions.

Something the religious amongst us hates, pesky questions, you know, like, um, er, God created the world in 6 days, or was it 7? How does the myth go? That calculates out to 4.5 billion years ago. Then we have dinosaurs on the planet for 165 million years. And then we get to man, 300 thousand years ago. Why did it take 4.2 billion odd years to create man? And, what is it, who did he love? Who did he loved so much that he made in his own image? Explain the dinosaurs 165 million year reign? Can you prove god isn't a dinosaur? Can you prove god isn't an Incisivosaurus?

I did find time to walk Otto to do my lotto, though. You know. Ho, ho. There you go.

And I wrote a poem. I was inspired by a poem called 13 Ways To Drink Chocolate Milk, inspired in style rather than content. I'll have to re-write it, it's a bit shit at the moment. But, I'll also have to let a little time elapse before I try the re-write. Inspiration tends to come with a little distance.

And then, suddenly the day was over and I hadn't opened my book at all. I used to read so much, and now I read so little.