Because it seems that around here, when we post about something important, people actually take the time to read it and relate/respond, be it criticism, praise or suggestions.
I've only seen one or two "too long didn't read" type statements so far, which I think is a good sign.
I was about to turn this into a long rant, just in spite, but dinner got in the way! Lucky you.
We have a lot to say about a lot of things. That could be because a lot of times we have to get our daily dose of intelligent conversation here. Or maybe we just like to make ourselves feel smart. I personally only write as much as I think needs to be said.
... I was wrestling a bear. It got pretty intense. Oh, wait, that was a dream... last night I, well, slept, but that was after going to this kind of party. I say party, it was an intervention. My friend Jimmy was getting way over his head on nail polish, the drug of the day, and we all knew that if he kept it up, he would die within 3 more bottles of the stuff. About a week, give or take a day. Oh, no, wait, the bear bit wasn't a dream! The local zoo had a bit of difficulty, and, well, long story short... oh hell, this is meant to be long. Okay. Well, attracted by the fragrant smell of nail polish (we waited until after 10 pm to tell him, so he would be drugged up enough to agree. Big mistake.), the bear found it's way down to the abandoned bomb shelter we hold all our parties/interventions in. The beast came charging in, claws barred, angry teeth glistening in the dull light, through whatever strange natural anomaly that causes teeth to glimmer, even in dull light, and it starts mauling. No-one in particular, just anyone unfortunate enough to get caught in a swipe. However, and here's the fun bit, after about five or so casualties (they're fine. Really.) the daemon began to get extremely groggy from the vast amount of purple fumes secreted by the junkie's bottle. It stumbled around for a while, then looked dead into my eyes with a gaze that says 'I'm a bear, and I want to fight you' (although, I will admit the 'I'm a bear' bit came from the fact that it was, indeed, a bear.). I'm not one to pass up the chance to kick the crap out of a druggy bear, so I accepted. The fight lasted a grueling 2 hours, until 11pm. I eventually subdued it with a forklift and some boxes (which was very tricky because by that time he was sobering up), and we finished the intervention before 0000 hours. It lasted an hour because we figured it wasn't right to hold an intervention for one polish-fiend and not the other, so the bear had to get told off too.
Moral of the story, don't go into an abandoned bomb shelter in Northern Ireland, because there's a good chance that it's got an angry, hungry and mercifully temporarily trapped bear in it.