As an alien to this planet, i am entitled to notice that humans ridiculously spawn like zerglings. they multiply without heed to their resources. in the near hundredth future, i predict that they will eventually eat themselves out of lack of sustenance. but that is too far from reality. Currently, there are 6. this would be an awesome number but who would call dibs on the Sahara? So i ling.

Sunday, November 3, 2013. All I want to do. Is get drunk with my wife. An endless glass of wine. Both of us on the floor. Look down on us? Are their miserable lives. When my wife is in the city. No book has ever kissed me. Saturday, October 1, 2011. The Slithergadee has crawled out of the sea.

And stirred a tornado in her senses. Voices in her head told her. And not worth the trouble of being wrong. But when did she ever listen to them? He smiled like an angel. A sanctuary and a cage. And she would yield to him. She actually thought about it. All he had to do was ask,. And she would make him. No, not ask,. How often does it happen? The government al.

Pointless poetry and some other stuff. What has changed since my last post? A lot of things, really. If you define two years in a single blog post, it would shift to so many conversations that I feel would not give justice to the events. What have I done in the past two years? Darwin has it all figured out, life. I wish I knew how things evolved. I could probably have adapted to be less dramatic.