TELL YOUR MOM I WOULD HAVE BEEN HAPPY TO PAY HER, HAD THE RIMJOB BEEN OF HIGHER QUALITY

Sunday, January 16, 2005

I Am So Goddamned Hung Over Right Now, I Wish I Was Dead

Even typing is almost too much physical exertion. The usual soft pad of the keyboard has been replaced by a harsh, sharp industrial clang.

I had dinner last night at the Co Worker's house, and it was a disaster. I'll probably post about it later, but I am not sure. It was more of a boring disaster then the usual thrill a minute content over here at Letters Have No Arms. I will say this: I don't think I'm going to make an effort to every interact socially with anyone ever again, unless they are a prostitute, a liquor store clerk, are willing to send me some free records, or are buying me something on my wishlist (it's in my profile - and my birthday is coming up in a few months).

I'm going to resume laying down and blurring the boundary between life and death.

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