A Journal From the Rim of the Sky

So, a bit of a change of plans. See, I have a physical journal that I write in, but sometimes it drives me up a wall to spend my free time writing in it; how the hell do you write 1,000 or more words a day, by hand, Adam? Do you wake up in the mornings and decide to just murder your hands? “You know what hands? To hell with your antics, I shall destroy you and your ability to do anything beyond eat and poop (and both of those will be much harder to do). Bwhahaha!” Anyway, the point is that I wanted to do this journal by writing on my blog then printing them out and pasting them into my journal. Does that make me a super lazy and horrible person? Yes. Do I really care? No.

The big downside to this is that I won’t be able to write the usual sorts of insanity that I do in my hand written journals because, small as it may be, I actually have an audience to worry about. Sort of. Like, I really can’t get away with talking about my sex-life with Jackie and how the world revolves around the size of my enormous wang. Ha. See? Doesn’t that make you just feel all squicky inside? Yes. Yes it does. If it doesn’t make you feel weird, then you need to let me know. So that I can weird you the fuck-out. Believe me, this is going to become a personal goal of mine. If you aren’t weirded out we’re going to escalate this to poop. Lots and lots of poop. Gallons and miles of it! DO YOU DOUBT MY WRATH? I hope not, for everyone’s sake. (Especially yours. Yeah. You. You wacky freak.)

Anyway, how am I? Skyrim came out a couple of days ago, and that means that my life has been revolving (almost literally) around it. In fact, as I write this, Jackie is playing it and I find myself watching her and going “damn, I wish I had my computer with me so I could kill some zombies.” But, alas, I need to get a *lot* of writing done, so this is what I am doing, instead of spending my time slaying dragons. Drunk dragons. (I think the dragons in Skyrim spend most of their time with the Nords in the mead halls, talking about the glory days of the Old Empire, when the Chinese still wandered the lands of Skyrim and fish still tasted of Mercury. [The most delicious of all transition metals.]) {Good god, I just made a Sealab joke, didn’t I?} It’s kinda of sad how little I have to write about in my journals sometimes, much as I am happy with my life it seems like so little of note happens in it. I mean, wake up, go to Jackie’s, have food, go to work, visit Jackie, sleep, repeat until my eyes bleed from the tedium of it all. Tedium. But at the same time, I like the tedium. It sounds insane, I know, but the regularity of my life works is comforting. I absolutely love the unpredictable and the unexpected, even if it fucking sucks ten donkey cocks, but it’s nice to know that I’ll be able to come home from work and Jackie will be waiting for me, for example, or that I will be working an eight hour shift at work. (Granted, I wish I had more opening shifts at work, but, hey, Ray’s inability to work outside the morning hours makes for a consistent schedule. Of annoyingness.) Eh. There’s not really a coherent thought behind this, save that my life is happy and joyful but at the same time it is also tedious and every day feels like it runs into the last. First world problems, you know. Because not having the world actively trying to kill me makes for such a sad sad life.

I blame the pie.

Well, not much else has really been going on. In a couple of days Jackie and I are going to Las Vegas for MineCon! This is exciting, because I love Minecraft AND I have four days off from work. That’s the most time off from work I’ll have for the next however the fuck long, because I work retail hell and vacations are another day in which the masses are encouraged to come out and buy more shit that they don’t really need. Ugh. This is going to rapidly devolve into a rant about how America is full of people who have no fiscal responsibility, how they just can’t resist buying lame shit that they don’t really need, but want anyway because it’s “such a good deal.” Like, I want a Steel Battalion controller and a computer to go with it, but my god, do you really need to buy so much of this shit? Christ. Okay, I have to end this now. Stop before it becomes a full blown rant.

Well.

Have a good day guys, I hope your world ends up well.

(And that you have someone of your favorite gender lick your genitals.)

-Snow

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About kylock

Man, biographies are really hard to write because sometimes you just don't know what to write about and then you ramble on pointlessly for a while about your hobbies (video games, reading, programming) and end up boring your readers because they expect something witty and insightful (there are only two ways to save money, neither of which involves hookers) and then readership falls off and you cry yourself to sleep.
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