Christ, I'm worn out. Come on out, Christ. Bring on the nukes. Staring at the sky and waiting, waiting.
Blood from the stone, today, and this week in general. I'll carry my share of the water. Verthandi and Ares, Sundance and the neo-bloodless. And Blunch, always Blunch. My kitchen keeps it real, but it's a little too real in there right now, if you know what I mean. My karma (cough) can't bear the deaths of any more arthropods, anti-ant though I may be.
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