Keep Hands and Arms Inside the Craft at All Times

First of all, how can you have your arm out of the craft if your hand isn't out? Like, an elbow?

Either way.

I'm not sure what to do with this blog. I should do something that would get me noticed. Something awesome.

But there's not much awesome in me that I could put on the web.

Hip, hip, hooray, for dee-en-ay!

My only talent is learning weird songs about racist socks.

Black socks,
They never get dirty,
The more I wear them,
The blacker they get.

Black socks,
I think I should wash them,
But something inside me says
'No, not yet.'

That.
It has a tune and everything. I can't believe someone would take time and effort to put a tune to that and rhyme it.

But then again, I'll write a poem now just to prove it doesn't take much time.

I'm writing this thing as a dare,
And that isn't exactly fair
I did this myself
Without the use of an elf
And now I'll go rip out my hair.

I was planning for this post to be a short one. I always plan that. Then I ramble on and on, and I forget that I wanted it to be short.

I'm not sure why I have chickens in my background for this blog.
I think it's because...I don't know. They looked cute. The colors were easy to match. I think that was why.

Black socks.