Down the Rabbit Hole
Perhaps it is only continued sleep deprivation malaise, but my depression is rapidly creeping up on me, as if I am Artax in the Swamp of Sadness. My need to insult the asshat is indicative of my need to feel better than somebody. Unfortunately you know it's really bad when insulting wee russian asshats doesn't make you feel better. Last night I almost cried after watching Seed of Chucky. Christ even supernaturally possessed serially killing UGLY dolls get love. As my former friend Jin used to say, even garbage cans dare to dream. And with some of us, that's all we do.


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