reprobate

So, is it a good idea to order $250 shoes at two o'clock in the morning after you've been trapped, somewhat unwillingly, in a bar by pouring rain for several hours?

I guess I'll tell you when they get here.

Either I have the worlds most powerful fingernails, or extra arteries in my face.

I'm sitting here, contemplating lunch, idly scratching my chin, as you do, and I kind of half notice that its wet. So I rub it on my shirt. I kind of half notice its still wet. Repeat. The third time around the fact that there's really no good reason for my...
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I am not an enabler, I am a pernicious influence. Just so long as we're clear.

I have regained the ability to make fire. I am very excited.

I was flown home by Captain Kirk today. For serious.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Edit: Heh. While it is amusing to see what people assume I'm reacting to, for the record, it was punching up my local paper's website and seeing another gulfward storm projection cone ten days into hurricane season.

I really don't feel that strongly about the site overhaul.

I have a new theory.

I am not a morning person. Never have been. I have always assumed that this was as a result of my natural circadian rhythms, serotonin reuptake, all that good biochem brain stuff.

Here's my new theory. Mornings suck. All bad things happen in the morning, or at least a disproportionate amount. My body is merely exercising primordial self preservation.

I'm...
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Ever get so into procrastinating that you suddenly realize the thing you're avoiding is more interesting than the thing you're doing to avoid it?

The dog from the Snausages commercial was named Snocrates.

True fact.

So, I got a pimple in the middle of my palm today. Not sure how that happened.

In other news, my flood insurance went down. Substantially. Now, in context, there are some more or less good reasons for that that relate back to before the storm, but it does seem odd here at the dawn of the new hurricane season that my flood insurance is...
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I love you all. Don't get used to it though, I'm fickle.

I'm tired of it.

All of it, but rather than dwell on that, I ask, because it was the subject of discussion at the bar, what is your worst blowjob story.

Giving, receiving, adjust for gender. Enquiring minds want to know.