Given that I'm not going to be at work for the next two days -- motherfucking hell yes praise Cthulhu with riffery, boobs and booze -- I'm having an extremely tumultuous noodle battle over posting. The half of me that wishes to put no effort into them is upset that the other half that wishes to put negative effort into them via empty electric hellfire club goateed templates currently has the upper hand and I'm no good at poker, "that's what she said," go to hell you old bastard. At least the weeds have been disinterred and the grass has been slashed and fuck I even did the goddamn laundry. Including the folding. Domesticated is sexy. C'mon ladies, back me up here.
Speaking of the weeds --
"Lemme guess. You're going to post a picture of your favorite dealer now."
Tell me a story, Mary Louise, pretty, pretty please.
"Finish yours first, lazy dreamer."
-- the front lawn was pockmarked with these devilish little buggers that looked suspiciously like marijuana if one had just taken a long drag of marijuana. Being an enemy of the sun, whose malice is directed towards me in spades and the other three suits as well, I said to myself under the influence of a nefarious tractor beam of light, 'you're a fan of medicine,' so 1)I smoked one whereby
2)I got a monstrous migraine and then 3)projectile vomited.
Only one of those three things actually happened. Guess which one and win a year's supply of projectile vomit. Hang on, I'm involuntarily imagining that the sometimes-better-half is chastising me for something that I cannot audibly discern through the torrential scowling. Yeah, yeah, I'll be right there dear. No, not tonight dear, I have
to think naughty thoughts about you-don't-know-who a headache.
No one wants the prize? Fine. You all get the prize:
That'll learn ya, smartasses.