It's been a while. Life is pretty overwhelming right now. There was a delightful visit from the Wheezus and her husband Mister Wheezus that, most pleasantly, consumed a buttload of time, and there's this thing going on to the effect that right now, Purple would, in all likelihood, most kindly characterize me as a hemorrhoid* despite our mutual thousand-million-white-hot-suns passion, and there's an extended legal struggle with Ilse's ex, and it appears that Save the World will have no further use for me in about 60 days, so I have to get a job get a job get a job.
If you got anything from me right now, it would be whining, and of course there's plenty to whine about, from fucktards actually celebrating the death of Steve Gilliard and deigning to compare the commentary on his passing to the commentary on the passing of Jerry Falwell, to the high comedy of fucktards trashing the President that they, in their pig-ignorance and hatred, brought down on us, to the impending untimely demise of the only team in the Stanley Cup finals not named after a Disney movie, to the distracting and damaging futility of presidential debates 18 months before a presidential election, to one of Lindsay Lohan's multiple addictions not being mindless and very, very dirty sex with me.
See? Wasn't that eclectic? And marvelously substance-free? That's what you'd get. If I were blogging, I mean. Which I'm not. Go read the links. Those people actually post things.
*I'm sorry. I meant "infected hemorrhoid." Didn't mean to short-sell you, there, buddy.
All In A Mouse’s Night
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