letting the motherfuckers get to you

I’m back again before finishing doing anything meaningful. Feel like shit from too-many potato chips. Haven’t even left the house.

I’m getting the jokes on paper but I’m at the point in the process I should’ve been two nights ago.

I won’t be going up tomorrow…I’m not ready.

To top it all off, it’s September 11th. 9-11.  Goddamned fucking mudslime cocksuckers. I cheerfully submit I could go the rest of my life with all the mudslimes on earth eradicated, it wouldn’t make a whit of difference to me except things around here would be more peaceful.  Primarily it’s the Arab mudslimes who are trouble. Muslim majorities in Indonesia and Bangladesh aren’t fanatical (but aren’t really free, either).

Fuck it, I’ve got bigger worries than those assholes. I’m trapped in dangerous, non-productive routines. I cling to the very obstacles in my way.

In other words, I’m human.

I’ll keep getting the comedy down on paper. I’ll be ready for next, next Wednesday. Polished.

When I do that, I’ll have one more victory.


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