Nothing is Safe. The Time of the Final Shit-Rain is upon us. Dear lord, I'm in a foul mood when it comes to writing anything these days. A growing sense of impotence in the face of universal idiocy is probably to blame, but now I sound like all those other idiots who complain about idiots for a living. Nothing gets accomplished that way.

Instead, we could focus on Tak's VW Jetta being crushed from behind by an SUV driver, but that's of little interest to anyone but us. How about the fact that "Dr. Strangelove" was being shown on the big screen at the Smelly Art Theater, and I couldn't go because I have to take tons of preparatory medications for a colonoscopy tomorrow? Nope, that's totally selfish and sounds like whining.

Well, I've said before that this is really just a personal journal, so I shouldn't be disappointed if no one else reads it. So there we go, from now on I'll be totally narcissistic, how's that?

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