Thursday, December 11, 2014

More toys, oh boy!

I have lived most of my adult life with the certainty that I am going to die. Not in some macabre, fatalistic sense. It just happens that when you bury enough people, the finite-ness of life clicks in the mind. It's liberating. It also made me a little short-sighted.

Kinda like the GOP?

Parasites don't have sight. Or die.

Good point.

So now I have shit I have never worried about worrying me. Well, not worrying me, just making take measure and care of shit I used to ignore. See, what had happened was I went from not having anyone to worry about but me, to having this other life form take a part of me that I can only have back on the condition that I keep her, too. Turns out, that changes shit.

You're not making sense.

People don't come here expecting me to make sense.

My best friend says I'm growing up. My best friend is a jerkface.

Also a jerkface.

I need coffee. And layers. It's in the 60s out there!

Is that Emma and Urkel?