Restless

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I'm feeling particularly restless and uncreative and unthoughtful, and all sorts of other words that make sense but probably don't exist -- this should explain why not so much in the way of posts lately. It's aggrevating, to be honest, because I don't feel distant from the blog, like I don't care, but simply empty of things to say.

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Ah well, who cares. My loss is your gain, though, because ordinarily when I wrote a post, a post that includes pictures, I dictate what kind of pictures you're going to look at. But tonight, since I have nothing else to offer, I'm going to let you pick which picture, out of a choice of two, you'd rather gaze upon. So: would you like to look at this picture of Amy Adams from Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day:

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...or this picture of Ernest Borgnine from The Devil's Rain:

The choice is yours entirely. I make no judgments, and don't even care to know your selection. It's your life, and you must find happiness where available. But -- and I probably should have said this before -- you can only look at one of them. Make your choice, and then look at that picture, and only that picture. This isn't a charity.