Hi friends and frienemies. I’ve missed you. My absence can only be explained by my life completely falling apart. But I’m slowly putting it back together. Sweeping up the shards. Laying new brick.
My relationship of 5 years ended. And I had to move out. Moving is a fuckton of work when you’re in a healthy state of mind. When you have a lung infection, an ear infection, and a broken heart, it seems like an insurmountable task. Not to mention coming off the tail of the past crapquake of a 6 months.
And looking for an apartment in L.A. is about as much fun as eating a bathtub full of goose shit. Woe is me.
But here I am, somehow still standing. Ish. I’ve moved into my new place. I’ve painted. I’ve unpacked. But I’m so exhausted. My bone marrow is tired. In normal life I’m sleeptarded, so this whole experience has made me part of the walking undead. But I can feel my body starting to recover. And I can almost sleep through the night without Ambien or marijuana.
So that’s where I’ve been! Weeeee!
Now that I live alone, I have an exorbitant amount of time to sit around and think. Not awesome. I find myself staring at the wall and wondering about things like, why do some people wear their pet snakes around in public? Why in god’s name would you ever do that? Hey, pet owner who wears your snake as a scarf: FUCK OFF. I’m sending you my dry cleaning bill from when I shit my pants as you walked passed me on the sidewalk. And you know, I don’t speak snake, but I’m pretty sure Mr. Slithers ain’t stoked to be keeping your neck warm on Beverly Blvd. You asstwat.
Also, you can’t tell me, if given the caveat that no one would ever find out about it, that every straight guy would love to suck on a lactating woman’s titties. Come ON. Just admit it already. It’s a win win for you dudes. Boobs and food. Fuckin’ paydirt.
Alright homies, that’s all the umph I gots right now. Thanks for sticking it out. Hopefully some creativity will pour in my soggy head once I start sleeping regularly. I hope you’re all amazeballs.