Black and blue

Someone recently asked me why I'm posting so much fiction nowadays. I told him that it was because I had nothing else to write, and besides, my thrice-yearly ambition to write a book was once again coming to a head, and whenever that happens my mind is flooded with half-baked ideas for plots and other such figments of my imagination. All right, so my head is always flooded with these thoughts, but I only bother to write 'em down three times a year. Will any of this ever actually lead to anything? Probably not. But still, I enjoy writing 'em, and some of you evidently enjoy reading 'em, so why not? Besides, as a dues-paying member of Chabad-Lubavitch, I feel obligated to___Wait a minute there buster. Did you just say a "dues-paying member of Chabad-Lubavitch"? And you're giving us this garbage? What's wrong with you? Where's the sichos and maamarim and shulchan oruch and shtuff that people actually want to read? Huh? Huh?___As I was saying, so sorry to be interrupted like that, I feel that as a representative of the worldwide movement that is modern-day Chabad___And what's with all the hyphenation? You having heart problem or something?___Can someone get security in here? This is getting ridiculous. Here I am, trying to write a nice little post with a little toichen, and this guy___Toichen? You call this toichen? Are you out of your flipping mind? This nonsense is so ridiculously___You know what? Quit it. Quit it. I've had enough of this ranting and raving___And you think no one's had enough of your ranting and raving?! Crazy man!___I'm sorry, I'm too emotionally overwrought to continue writing, please excuse me___And good riddance to him too!