Just felt like making fun of the title of today’s Freshly Pressed blog on the topic of “Love.”  I’ve always thought of love as Electric Tethers.  No, I guess I thought of some sort of bdsm as Electric Tethers.  Or I suppose I thought of electrocution torture as Electric Tethers, or perhaps the electric chair.  Though one binds briefly, and one (horrible to imagine) does not.

I guess publicly mocking a Freshly Pressed blog means that I will never get Freshly Pressed.  But hell.  I guess it also indicates my decrepit pickle-faced envy of people who get nice compliments on their writing.

Today, after visiting the facebook page of someone I used to know who is getting way more nice compliments on their writing than I am, I decided to never write again.  A couple hours after that, I was dumping some canteloupe rind and coffee grounds in the compost pile when I noticed MORE GROSS BUGS THAN EVER wriggling in there and scattering (if they had legs) like buckshot.  After I figured out that they’re mostly Black Soldier Fly larvae, pill bugs, and earwigs (all beneficial), I excitedly ran to the internet in order to write about it on the blog.

So I guess nevermind about that.

At least I write better blog titles than that guy.

Or maybe he’s actually writing about electro-convulsive therapy.  But is that really a common enough experience that a universal “us” can be used?  Same could be said for torture and the Chair, though.  Or, hey, maybe I should find out if he’s writing about car battery cables—that would be amazing & I would take back all the nastiness!!  Battery cables bind so briefly, and how tethering they are!  Not sure what kind of realistic parallel can be made between Love and jump-starting a car, though.

No, I guess it’s got to be Love.  That nice old briefly-binding current that also tethers.  Old thing.  Fond of you.