Dammit, dear reader, the night got away from me again.  I need either a manager or an assistant.  Preferably both.  I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to write books and also shop for groceries and get the oil changed and all the pedestrian, time-consuming tasks that everyone else seems to be able to get done whilst still having a career.  I should have factota.  I suppose the upside is, in the words of Kobayashi, “One cannot be betrayed if one has no people.”  But if one has no people, one ends up spending a lot of time dicking around in lines at grocery stores.

Anyway, enough of this drivel…time to drain this pen of bitter ink.  And to pawn a biting phrase with tongues hot with blood.  Heh.  Yeah.

N.P.: “Sex Type Thing” – Stone Temple Pilots

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