I Said God Damn.

So I have once again been marred by the evil that is poison ivy. My pulchritude notwithstanding, I wouldn't mind the ordeal too much if the freaking rash would just stop waking me up in the middle of the night because it itches so horrifically. It's on my arms. My neck. My pectorals. Behind my knees. My thighs. And I don't have a cool looking "tough-guy" scar down my bicep like I did last year. I blame Rugby. If I had walked through it and then spread the rash by scratching/touching other areas of my body, I'd have it on my lower legs, right? It's placed in all of the areas that Rugby likes to mash himself up against me. So, in a word, if anyone needs some glue give me a call.

Oh yeah. Um. Shot out to my friends who I have been crappy at communicating with of late. I haven't been communicating much at all with anyone. Got a lot brewing between these earholes. Boredom is no longer my love. Rage, perversion, madness, whose every impulse and disaster I know-- my burden is set down entire. Let us appraise with clear heads the extent of my innocence.

I missed you severly all weekend, Ahniwa. I hope that all is well in your corner of the globe!