We’ve hit the baker’s dozen of wasteland dispatches! I plan to celebrate with a little extra delicious nutrient paste derived from old comic books in my rations today.
Good morning, denizens of the wasteland, from my hovel on the shores of the Bow.
Well, it was morning when I started writing that, then the day happened and it’s evening now. Good evening, denizens of the wasteland, from my hovel on the shores of the Bow.
Where did the day go? I haven’t even looked at any of my feeds yet, for all I know I’m the only one left! Well, at least I have my books… *eyeballs fall out and shatter* that–that’s not fair… that’s not fair! There was TIME now!!!
I’m a little loopy today as I had a less-than-restful sleep. I usually go to bed around 10:30 and read until ~midnight. When I got into bed last night I discovered a tiny anarchist, who had been watching Hotel Transylvania 2 before I came and carried him to his own bed, had had some kind of demented cracker party. The sheets and duvet were mostly crumbs, which I continued to find throughout the night. Just around the time I had found the last of the crumbly bastard remnants and managed to sweep them away, muttering about retro-active birth control, the aforementioned tiny anarchist returned complaining of bad dreams.
No doubt something he ate.
The remainder of my sleep was disrupted by, what can only be described as, the noisiest breathing not powered by an iron-lung in history. Also, somehow the perpetrator, despite weighing under 50lbs managed to take up more bed-space than a mature, male rhinocerous. I was finally drifting off to sleep when the younger tiny anarchist arrived, kicking open the bedroom door like he was there to take out Osama Bin Laden. Seal Team Under-Six insisted it was time to wake up, no arguments that it was in fact 4:45AM would sway him. Eventually he was bribed back to his room with a tablet (you try being a good parent with boxer briefs filled with cracker crumbs) and I was finally allowed to sleep. For almost 45 minutes before the alarm went off.
So that’s my excuse for the lack of lucidity, tomorrow is another day.
Take care of yourself and don’t eat crackers in my bed, you swine.
Currently Playing: Grove of Whispers – “Cold Moon”
Currently (Re)Reading: SHIVERING SANDS: SEVEN YEARS OF STORIES, DRINKING AND THE WORLD, Warren Ellis
joezone 