...or on staying dry.
so the place is empty and the bastard decides, well either way, i'm ending up at the office. making guns look good. funny thing is the bastard almost typed making guns look god, is there something in that freudian slip? anyway the bastard decides that rather than dig on the pre recorded stylings of pat kiernan and the new york one news team....again, i'd get the hell outta dodge. the bastard walks up to the train and it's a heavy drizzle. not awful, i can deal. commute is relatively quiet and i get to the office. coffee's rolling and oh snap, we have milk. holy crap! i just realized how absolutely fucking mundane the bastard's day to day is. i think i'll have to jump out a plate glass window! this is what happens when i start something before i get hopped up on goofballs. i think rather than write about how the sky totally opened up right after the bastard got settled in, i will go out and run in it until i come to my senses or at least until the stims kick in.