Once more, with feeling

I hate it when this communicates less than even my mood. Much less than my particulars, all of which I'd like to relate to you. In a witty, coherent, pithy way.

But I'm not up to much, tell you the truth. All my best bits are leached away in the sun and my sweat, and I won't have more for at least a minute. I'm even out of puns, which I didn't think was possible.

I had a grand, spectacular day with myself. An even better one with some of you. You know who you are.