Trapped in a mediocre snake pit

Right now, as we speak, a good-sized snake is chasing around two mice under my bed. In all of its comedic glory, the snake will never get those two menacing and tricky rodents. Is the same thing true of the chasing of your life-long goals? Just something to consider.

Is everybody on fucking hiatus right now? Certrainly there is no contact through this medium. Christ, it's almost Halloween you know. Do you know what that means? It means I'm going to be dressing up like a hobgoblin (sometimes called a bogey) and starting trouble all over the area. I will also have (once again), a Burt Reynolds-esque mustache and an apple sauce spoon. There's a haunted tower type place here in Madison where I'll be going. I've been involved in enough fright chants to be able to maintain the nerves to make it to level 13. Maniacs on level 8, magicians on level 9 and murderers on level 12. Level 10 and 11 hold secret passages filled with blood horror and masked henchmen screaming tortured rhymes as they get turned into torsos. Level 2 has a giant man with 24 fingers and a crooked-necked old woman with bad teeth nursing her fetus with a soda can filled with gasoline.

Now that's all I have. You see, it's not the first time that I've been working towards burn-out. But I'm burning myself out now to have fun later this week. UFOID is coming over for the NIN concerto de bueno. Then I'm going to read some papers leisurely in front of Taco Bell and solicit "dollars for gorditas," which is a new program I recently developed.

Okay... live on...