At Least I'm Not Captious . . . Oh, Wait

Just recently, my mother showed me the newspaper, which announced a water ration for the area, because of all the usual reasons that there are water rations: lack of water, in short. I remember junior high science class, where they taught us the water cycle and renewable resources and what not. So, I expect a shortage of resources that we can run out of, that we should be limiting, like oil. But, water? What kind of state is this world in when the most abundant element of nature in existence is being used up? Our bodies are 80% water, the Earth's surface is 75% water, and it constantly renews itself; you know the drill, evaporation, condensation, precipitation.
I think I know what aggravates me about the concept of rationing water. It's that the people responsible for the pollution of our rivers and other bodies of water are sitting back and enjoying any damn amount of water they want. I bet every single one of them has a Jacuzzi, the bastards. Hell, I'm sure that in their free time, they run bathes and drain them, just so they can maniacally laugh at our expense. I mean, what happened to the days of complimentary water in restaurants, and water fountains that had an actual decent amount of pressure and the water spouting from them didn't taste like a mouthful of copper pipe?
Maybe I'm just bitter, maybe I'm just an angry person, maybe I just watched too many episodes of Captain Planet when I was kid, but it just strikes me as absurd that I have to limit my shower time, which is usually quite extensive because I, you know, like long showers, while Mr. River Polluting Factory Endorser can refill their Olympic-sized pools three times a day because their little nephew peed it in or a leaf fell from an overhanging tree or something. I read an article in the Reader's Digest, meaning I had too much time to spare on the John (my apologies to all those named John that are tired of the toilet being referred to as them), about Saddam Hussein always reveling in his water supply, since it's such a rarity in the arid area he owns. So, you're telling me that this fat son of a bitch is pissing away water, while I'm taking ten minute showers to conserve it? Hey, bomb the fucker, see if I object.

Adios.

Quote of the Moment: "There's the White House. I bet George Bush is in there, right now. Think about it. " "I bet he's eating a not dog." "And watching baseball." "While playing baseball." "And waving a flag." "He'll have an American apple pie for desert, too." "Yeah" - A conversation between me and a friend, in a bus as it passed by the White House.

A Return in Contradistinction to Departure

Well, I realised that it had been a few months since I last put up my notice that I would be taking a break from my Blog, to reorganise and restructure things. As of the 11th of this month, this website has been taking up virtual space for six months or so. I had such grandiose plans for that milestone, a new design, a stockpile of entries. Suffice it to say that, due to extenuating circumstances, neither of those happened. I didn't write all that much during my sabbatical, nothing I find overly interesting, even though I wrote it myself. "Le sigh," say I, which is an expression I have no idea why I picked up, as of late, and rubbed off on a friend.
For now, I'm going to leave it at this blurb of an entry, which is mostly to notify the world of readers I have (read: nobody) that I am not dead, and that I will resume posting in the near future. I have plans! Don't get me wrong, I haven't been entirely disregarding this thing for the two months I spent doing more important things, like playing Dungeons & Dragons and Neverwinter Nights. (No, I really did attend to higher business, in all seriousness.) This entry, itself, is so disjointed and rambling that I should end it here and now.
One last thing, I'm brewing up my first real post, within which I hope to explain this Blogspot insofar as possible why I do certain things how I do them. Right now, though, my inability to form coherent and intelligent sentences is causing me physical pain, as I read over what I've written. Until then . . .

Adios.

Currently Playing Song: Fugazi's "Cashout," off of The Argument.
Quote of the Moment: "Le sigh." (Sweet Lord, this is pitiful.)

EOF