From Nothing...To This

I have come to this particular post having no idea what I am going to post about.  In fact, apart from that initial line, which I thought of as I was waiting for the page to load, the rest of this is free flow, top of my head kinda stuff....so, in other words, likely pretty boring, bad stuff.
I am currently half way through the longest hour of the workday.  I always find from 3 to 4pm to be dreadfully long.  You know, I just paused and re-read those last two lines, about the time there, and I made myself sick.  Sick with the awful feeling that this could be the worst post I ever make, resorting to commenting on the time.  Holy shit!
At least it's a sunny day, and the forecast for the weekend looks pretty good too, doesn't it.
Oh, man, drastic action time, so here's a joke I'm just going to make up right now.  It will not be funny, but it will be completed.

A man who has two left feet walks into a bar and orders a Banana Daquiri.  It's a rather rough and tumble bar, and the barkeeper, in no polite terms, tells the man that they don't serve Banana Daquiris.  The man makes a pouty face and whines "But I have two left feet.  Doesn't that count for something?"
The barkeeper, whose very own recently departed mother had two left feet as well, suddenly felt pangs of guilt and sentimentality.  He broke down and began crying.  One of the tough guys in the bar, who was playing pool with his girlfriend, heard the crying and asked "What the shit is that crying?"
The barkeep was by this point sobbing uncontrollably, so the two-left-footed man took the initiative to answer the question.
"I could tell you the sad tale of the crying barkeep", said the man, "but to do so, I'd have to have sex with your lovely lady there."
The woman, who was sick and tired of beating her boyfriend at pool, spoke up and said "I'll have sex with you, but first I need to call my two children and tell them I'll be home later than usual."
The tough guy, who had often expressed to his girlfriend, his desire to participate in a threesome, didn't interject and instead offered, "That's okay by my, but I want to be part of the action."
All three agreed, and they decided they'd do the deed right there on the pool table.
However, before they could really get into it, the woman, who had a crippling brittle bone disease, broke in two and died.
This made the tough guy sob.  His wailing added to the still-strong sobs of the barkeep, who was now remembering the last time he spoke to his mother, and how he wished he would have told her he loved her.
Through his pain, the tough guy noticed that Two-Left Feet wasn't crying.  "How can you not be upset over this?  The cracking in two of the woman I was about to share with you in sexual pleasure gratification?"
To whiche the two-left-footed man replied.  "I'm sorry, but I was told never to cry over split MILF."

The tough guy and the barkeep then punched the shit out of the two left footed guy.

Ugh.  I can barely bring myself to click the submit button to post this.