Sunday, 24 July 2011




On my way back, and...


What in Christ's name is going on?

I'm trying to read these posts in the dark and I'll I got is a wedding, a fork, a pipebomb, and pajamas.

Fuck it. No need to summarize. Just tell me if I should go to the house or meet up with someone somewhere, or something.


  1. Damned if I know, there's just been a lot of rushing around the house and everybody took off. House is pretty much empty, but I think there are some leftovers in the fridge. I doubt I ate them all, at any rate. Boss might still be in the East Wing, but I stay away from the eastern portion of the basement, so I wouldn't know.

    Being up topside scares me a bit when everyone else is gone, I've only really ventured out to get food. Had a lot of research to do. But if you want to return to the house, that's fine. Your footfalls might give me some company.

  2. Oh, trust me, I don't know what's been going on anymore. I've been traversing the wild, untamed frontier of Vermont since all this wedding tomfoolery, I was home for a grand total of two hours prior.

    Who would weigh their spouse down with the thought that one day, very soon, they will have their stomach contents neatly dispersed in plastic bags is what I'd love to know. Sure, I can understand, grab onto what you can in this bitch of a life, but you can get far more temporary (and often more romantic) love in any of the bars and clubs of this fine free country.

    Hell, and if that doesn't work out for you, I hear there's still a thriving sex industry.

    I just don't understand!

  3. ...

    Now I'm even more confused.

    Steele, are you implying I should be a hooker?

  4. As always, I feel my point has been communicated succinctly and fully.