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January 2019

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I have no idea what's up with me these days. This week's been mostly horrible, and i've been felling so damn tired all the time, and I tried going to bed early and I couldn't open my eyes the next morning.

I'm feeling so, so,recumbent lately. I have no idea why. It's like I woke up one morning and just decided to stop living the deranged existance scientists call life.

I no longer give a damn about most things. And the things I do care about at the moment are so increadably pointless and stupid that I don't know If i've all shreds of anything that in any way resembles sanity, or I'm having a mood swing. I don't think it's the second.

Anyway, Love The Grim Grotto. Lemony Skickey's great. Anne Rice's my goddess, and I think Stephen King may be may be my literary god (he knows how to write in blood and gore), so if I create my own little literaty hell (hell being what I worhip, heaven being what I spit on), Lemony Skicket might rate as "Demon Underlord" in my homour devision. "Demon Overloard" being Dave barry. (You just have to have devisions. There is no way you can compare authors like Lovecraft and Grishem to each other. Dave Barry RULES!)

I guess if I have my hell, I'd have to name my heaven. For the title of GOD, (the good christian one, the one I don't like) it'll have to be a tossup between Twain and Dickins. The state of the realist crap they churn out disturbs me deeply. The female equlivent of GOD up there in heaven would probably be Anne Rand. Gods she write crap. I know there are crappier writers out there, published writers who write Mary-Sue type fiction, but thankfully, I have mostly advoided that sort of crap. There is no denomination in the universe these mary-sue writers can be compared to.

Anyway,To drink my weight, I would have to chug 128 pints of beer!
How big is your beer belly?
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