The average person’s left hand does 56% of the typing.

As was said in some diatribe from some muse who is probably no longer alive, “That’s it… I’m done!” Or, in the words of Porky Pig, “Th-th-th-that’s all folks!”

Just don’t have the drive or desire anymore. Besides, no one really reads this damn thing anyway. It was just some place I could hang my hat when someone pissed me off bad enough to put it in print. Besides… who blogs anymore? It’s all tweets and Facebook and social media… crapola. Somehow the printed word is getting bastardized into some derivative language; all chopped up and irregular in it’s presentation. I guess I’m getting to old for all this new social media stuff… I guess I’m just getting to old.

So this is my swan song. (Boy, that’s a term that needs an explanation. Swan Song: This term is derived from the legend that, while they are mute during the rest of their lives, swans sing beautifully and mournfully just before they die. This isn’t actually the case – swans, even the inaccurately named Mute Swans, have a variety of vocal sounds and they don’t sing before they die.)

Quite possibly there will singing, revelry and dancing in the streets… I won’t bother with the explanation of the phrase. Just suffice to say, I’m outta here.  Maybe someone else will want to pick up the gauntlet and do their best to bore the crap outta people who are just trying to make a living. And that’s all I am trying to do; is make a living. And I really am not very good at that either.

So, there you have it… Uncle Mark is saying “Adios…”. And that heart felt sigh of relief is accepted… fondly… and returned…

Until…