Seeing as how I took my native tongue to WHEREVER the fuck I just landed, according to the wife who is very angry that I rolled of bed at the crack of dawn, writing has been nigh impossible. I may have been on a second trip to a ward (wherever that was) and came out again, wherever I am, to breathe air again. You don’t go to the the psych ward where you are needed there. Useless trip. But anyway, here’s what I know:

It is cold here.

Very cold.

So cold that no human should survive.

Why are we shivering so? Why are we in desperate need of a cigarette?

Has science made a breakthrough?

I believe they have.

Smoking is as passe as fucking heroin, but we’re still putting it in our bodies. It’s like we need it for coating or something.

What job would you do for free?

Since I am, I have an enormous urge to smoke. And until I calm the fuck down, I will not cease.

Second hand worriers can go fuck themselves.

End copy.


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