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Just imagine a mime in an inaginary box here


Got it? Good.

No this isn't a post about the untimely demise of Lorene Yarnell, shame as that is.

It was meant to be a metaphor for my ongoing communication crisis. Actually I'm not even sure it's a metaphor for anything. But in a two second flash of almost creativity, I thought I'd post a picture of a mime to illustrate my .... blah... my dick, okay? and maybe my hairy Irish ass too. Wax it while you're down there, will ya? Halloween's coming up and I need an extra flashlight.

That's pretty much my mood boys and girls. I'm just not up to giving the vast number of internet ghosts who wander over here looking for cheap viagra and Russian brides each a virtual reach around. Even though I could, with both hands, and still type.

Nope, I'm in a funk. Not a good one, either. More of an "Angela's Ashes" has got shit over Dr Spock for parenting advice kinda mood.

Plus, my phone broke. And my car. And my water heater.

Fuck the lot of you.

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