Originally posted by Genesis-Soldier
last nights work, saturdays freak out, my back at work yesterday. assignments i have rushed to do, print and help others with and on a very low sugar/carb intake
When you get a chance, go do something that relaxes you. Maybe without alcohol. Just get some recharge time so you can face everything with a clear head.
Mitch was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. He's woman was an old American prostitute named MG with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds. Pretty standard really. At the age of twelve, I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Welshy ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum, it's breathtaking, I suggest you try it, Scribbles.