Unless you’ve been living under a rock, the news of the world currently is that two bombs were set off at the finish line of the Boston Marathon, and at the time I’m writing this, three are confirmed dead as a result, and hundreds of people are injured and hospitalized.  Additionally, there is no clue to whom is responsible for the bombings, but it’s being perceived as a probably act of terrorism, and the scary thing is that it purportedly could have been worse, as there were claims that additional bombs were found undetonated, also along the race path.

Obviously, this is a horrible incident and leads to the path of thinking of whom in their right mind could perpetrate such a heinous act, why they would want to target innocents at a major gathering event.  I really do feel for those affected by this horrible incident, and I’m easily someone who really wishes the absolute worst on the person or persons responsible for the act, and wouldn’t mind hear of them being put to justice with some extreme prejudice.

But I could seemingly inappropriately change gears a little bit, I have to say that it’s really not that surprising that something so horrendous happened.  But it’s my brog, and I write what I want to.  Yes, it’s going to sound selfish, conceited and certainly making it about me, but if there was ever one occasion where I think I could be given just a little bit of leeway for doing so, it would be my birthday, which is just days away.  The bottom line is that as long as I’ve lived, there’s been this odd propensity for horrendous events to happen near or around my birthday.

And as far as I’m concerned, it’s kind of not fair, and it really upsets me.

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