blastprocessing

I don't get how friends threads work anymore. Someone school me.

Okay, so anyway.

The Secret Project None of you Ingrates Knows About is proceeding, but slowly. I'd love to have the patience of a zen spider, but such is not my lot.

I do wish things would go a little faster, as the Secret Project is an integral aspect of the Greater Overall Plot Which Absolutely Nobody Knows About, and I ain't getting any younger...
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I found a great new way to make myself inexplicably depressed and angry about the past.

"Google Old Friends/Acquaintances/Should've-Beens Who You Really Wish You Hadn't Fallen Out Of Touch With" is the new craze sweeping the nation.

It's fucking great.

I am still so so so pumped about ITNOTK: aDST. It's going to be so ludicrously wrong. I can't wait to watch so many careers die.

I may also eat spicy food.

I really should do some work on my car, but jeez.

IN THE NAME OF THE KING COMES OUT TOMORROW

IT'S GOING TO BE SUCH A TRAINWRECK

EVEN IF IT'S GOOD

ESPECIALLY IF IT'S GOOD

BUT IT WON'T BE, BECAUSE IT'S BOLL

I AM SO SO SO PUMPED

I am bored out of my everloving mind.

It's the scariest feeling ever, as in my experience it always precedes utter disaster.

Why can't boredom ever precede something fun for me, like a lottery win or freaky circus sex?

Okay, why am I so turned on by watching the girl from the Broadway adaptation of Young Frankenstein sing "A Roll in the Hay" on Letterman?

I mean, aside from the obvious reasons.

My tone-deaf brother thinks that Rock Band is for him to quote-unquote sing.

I'm going to murder him in his sleep.