Listening to: The grinding of my own teeth
Reading: Halting State.
Drinking: The distilled souls of the damned.
Against some manner of machine, though I feel in saying that it's a violation of copyright in some direction. Alas...
Holidays grind on, oh yes I've been freed from my prison of intellectual umber and released onto the plane of the 'public' with the gay abandon of a new born deer into a den of wolves. My wide eyes have been sullied only be the urination of homeless men and the fawning fraternization of clothed Mang-tards attempting to paw each other because they are relinquished from their parents basements.
I hold no sympathy for those without sufficient imagination to find more private groping livations; in all literal sense of the words - get a room.
Such is the time of year where I am left to wonder as to what this one will bring. 2010 went out not with a bang nor whimper but the still silence of it's heart monitor having been shut off, next of kin notified and anything cool on the body going to the attending nurse. They don't get paid much you know.
Sufficient to say that should this year bring as much of that loquacious stress as last year, I shall be left without any other option than to become a professional dog mime. This is not something we want to see happen. Perhaps I should investigate a different career, one without such stresses engendered by foreign bodies beyond my control. Oh who am I kidding, all jobs have this manner of baggage or another.
Keep moving forward, or some such rubbish.