Miss Bite-Off-More-Than-I-Can-Chew, 2010

I've been blogging in my head for centuries.  Dare I extract the inane, nonsensical ruminations of Miss Bite-Off-More-Than-I-Can-Chew 2010, from my brain situated directly beneath my tarnished tiara?

I have much to say, yet will I need others to read and therefore validate my font of opinion?

Nothing venture, nothing gained. Truths...lies...I can neither confirm nor deny the veracity of my content.

You be the judge...

The old "stick and stones" rule shall not apply here. Words have immense power in my world. If deserved, wrath shall soar, but never higher than warranted praise.

I will spit-shine my tiara and vow do the least damage I can, tongue placed firmly in cheek...and thoughts projected every which way, like the infinite dance of disco ball babies.

Shall we dance?

(I hope I don't have to dance by myself for very long. People dancing by themselves look like dorks.)