The Crusade of Stupid Continues

I found a way to get random journals from Livejournal-- the problem is you cannot limit your searches by any means. At least all of these blogs seem to have updated this very day, but the other problem is it takes me about 15 tries to just get one in English.
All the while the 99 cent clip art pinwheel is spinning happily in the corner. I bet I could order 150000000 of them by the time I found a single blog to review. Fuck you, Livejournal.
Oh look, I found a way to filter by journal but it only filters for my journal entries (of which there are none).
What the fuck?
So after much fussing I finally found something.
I had to want it, man.

Unloved, unloved, you brutish son
So make me tall and brave and strong
Your cruel grin and your boots of violence
It is not of these that I do love.

... Why did I pick this blog again? I mean this is bad, but-- what has become of my life?

It is your tongue, your tongue, your tongue
How I shall steal it away and keep it in a jar
To fill me with mad delights, the passion of crime
Wild-eyed boy sans civil tongue.

What

Eyes may roll but ne'er may they shut
Poor brutish son, rather driven mad
To wash you clean and pure and young
All but your tongue, little son.

I think I need a moment.
Okay I've rallied.

It is here in these empty canals that the spirits dwell,
the wind a strange bedfellow.

Does the wind blow in a canal? Maybe in these canals it does.

The tired glass and pretty coins in windows
wait in a lonely, solemn peace.

Coins in windows-- what?

Red, green, golden hues on land that once held birth.

Why am I reviewing this, again?
I only have one complaint about this blog (and it is a big one): THIS MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE.
This is absolutely incoherent to me. I might as well be reviewing one of the thousands of Russian blogs I stumbled on before this.

It rained all through the departure. The people on the dock fussed with umbrellas and coats, for they did not want to say goodbye, really.

The dock, eh?

It seems people often become strangers when saying goodbye.

Were they watching the ships roll in?

Some came just to see the magnificent ships, and they were truly a breathtaking sight to behold. They were very beautiful, albeit a touch cold.

I left my home in Georgia, headed for the 'Frisco Bay
'cause I've had nothing to live for,
and looks like nothing's gonna come my way

The voyagers were to go to a new world, a strange and fantastic place which the people knew nothing about.

To the East, to Morrowind.
Fear not, for I am watchful.
No, no wrong thing. Again.

The rain was forgotten as all watched the ships rise steadily into the air. Higher and higher they rose, until even the sharpest of eyes could no longer discern the ships.

Oh they're space travelers.
Uhh-- I know where I'd like to send whoever wrote this: Armageddon.
What happens there?
Nothing big, just an ALIEN INVASION.

They had all heard the tales of the departure, but the brilliant light that bathed the launch dock as the ship doors opened went far beyond their most exotic dreams. It was in this light that the voyagers took their first breath of the quiet air, walking from their coruscating ships onto the landing dock like a realized future.

Took their first breaths of quiet air, like a tortured metaphor. Oh fuck me it's poetry time again.

sweet dreams, dream train
train of thought.

Suddenly I'm reminded of both the Eurythmics and Ozzy Osbourne.

From Dr. Polidori's Lord Ruthven to Stephenie Meyer's Edward Cullen, the annals of vampire lore are filled with attractive, charming bloodsuckers. Which one would you most want to be bitten by?

NONE, WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?
Vampires are supposed to be monsters. You destroy monsters, you do not feel sympathy for them.

I answer this only because I have been reading Anne Rice for the past month or so. The Vampire Lestat sits beside me as I type this.

Anne Rice is to blame for all this. Remember when vampires were fuck awesome and not whiny pussies?
Yeah I miss that.

Before proceeding to the main attraction, the people were requested to remove their shoes and watches.
They were to be placed in safety boxes until a later time.

No I'm keeping my shoes. Fuck you.

While the people were busy watching, the machines were busy outfitting each individual with his or her very own action suit.

Action suit.

The suits, like the television programs, were much the same.

Does this mean the suits are like the ones seen on TV (still not sure what an action suit is?) or does this mean the action suits are like the television programs, and that is all the same?
Participles are crafty, they are.

At the end of the tour, a small serial number was painlessly and neatly printed at the napes of their necks.

So I'm a Space Marine now.
Oh forget it. I am so pissed at Livejournal now. The one amusing feature they completely removed. It's like they're trying to find a way to turn douchebaggery into a weapon. They're coming dangerously close at any rate.