Ok, so way too much work this week. my brain is frying slowly but quite efficiently like an egg put in a pan an low heat, crisping and curling around the edges, the center drying out in warning of the snack it is about to become. I have nothing intelligent to say and usually stay away from here at these points in time, but wtf, why not?
WHOO! I suck at math right now, but in the last 33 hours I’ve had about 4 hours of sleep; making me the winnar! Of what you ask, humble citizens? I have no idea, but damned if I didn’t win. I’m busy laying out ideas for 2 books, cuz I like books, and one day hope to eat many, many of them.
I was drinking some cranberry juice yesterday. It tasted very weird. It took me about ten minutes to figure out why it was so unfamiliar, especially when I’ve been drinking it a lot for the past couple months. Then it struck me, there was no vodka in it. I think that somewhere there is an ex-wino. A man who lay in his own filth surrounded by refuse for years before one day, quite by chance, coming across a lottery ticket, or a job offer. Faced with such success he pulled himself up by his bootstraps and quit drinking. Bought a house, got a wife, and is raising little future bums of his own. Every night he comes home, sits down at a table and eats a sumptuous meal prepared by his loving wife, surrounded by his children. And he curses that fucking bitch’s name, because the food never tastes as good, and no drink ever caresses his throat like ambrosia, since he stopped drinking himself into a moderate coma every day in the gutter.
You need to quit playing with the alien space craft and fall into a deep sleep happily dreaming of eating peaches.
Well, maybe just one Peach!!