I am thinking of resurrecting The Blog That Makes No Sense (TBTMNS).
It came to me in a dream. In this dream The Blog That Makes No Sense was disguised as my father. My father (really TBTMNS) was riding atop a llama. He spoke to me in Gaelic. I did not understand.
The llama snorted. My father spit. A child cried.
He looked down at me and spoke in French. I understand French. He said to me (this is translated from the French): "You must bring it back. The French Fries are at war and Richard Simmons is crying."
I awoke with a tear in my eye, a stranger in my bed, and a certainty that one only feels when nature calls.
I am yours, TBTMNS. I will not leave you, ignore you nor exploit you for money or free passes to Check E Cheese.