Monday, March 7

It's Fruitcake Weather.

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A quick heads-up for you. I'm working on a few new essays, but my city's currently at war and my job (and perhaps yours) is on the line, so I'm prioritizing accordingly for the time being. The Missus and I have boarded up our windows, and have been seeking shelter in our basement since mid-February. Most of the canned peaches are gone, and we've eaten two of our three cats. We're very cold.

Darkness. Imprisoning me. All that I see. Absolute horror.

Long story short, I'm working on it, so hang in there. I promise that Madison and I will hang in there, too. Sound off in the comments section and enjoy your day.

Comments:
Could be worse. Could be you could have the old fashioned pork intestine from the Chinese Restaurant in Chanhassen.
 
Extra cup of raisins
 
Yeah. "Shit could be worse." Wise words. I should put that on my work bulletin...

Ya'll take care up there. We're about to have some rallies down here, but they'll pale in comparison because Florida (or, Flori-DUH, as some people like to call it) is full of disaffected, ignorant, lazy-asses, and you only have to look at the creep who got elected into the Governor's seat to see it. This state is about to become a bankrupt sea of empty strip-malls, fast food places and houses that no one can afford. I mean, MORE of a bankrupt sea of empty strip-malls, fast food places and houses that no one can afford.
 
Ah, Metallica.
 

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