Widderschynnes to your doom.

EPISODE 182: OH NO!

about a million lines away lies the completion of a project that probably never will be. I dunno, I'm just guessing.

so... many... numbers...

Thursdays, like clockwork. Like fucking clockwork.

protect the memory.

If you don't believe in me, I won't believe in you. You're screwing it up.

magic number just magically keeps getting higher and higher...

Let's go to the stars. Seriously, the stars. Hollywood. Hollyweird even. I wouldn't mind a trip. Acid trip maybe but a trip nonetheless. Probably something to keep you on your toes as well because I wouldn't mind the walk up Baldwin Street either or maybe a climb up the towers and... and... and... rrrrrrrrainbow jelleh. Or cupcakes. Or... a cardboard box?

squit squit squit

Hey, Houston, uh... you're not gonna like this...

now it seems like I've somehow gotta find a way to remember and recite every fucking thing you've said to me. I already got a bad case of déjà vu from you as is.

car goes past
bad day gets worse
small town kid gets big city wakeup and fucking loves it so fucking much he stays.

We already gave up our tears to the neon sky. What now?

Criminies I thought this shit was meant to be gone but now I'm all agitated and shit like a washing machine and I have zero idea why. I get the feeling that I'm going to regret writing this blog post but I suppose I shouldn't regret anything. I'm going now.

Yo Kemosabe... you're a good egg.