There will be no title.

On a day where I don’t work eight hours, spend lunch not actually eating anything but rather hunched in an unfortunate position for all of Fox Point to see while smearing Killz on shelves, return to smear Killz on the other side of shelves, discover that huh, the sun really does dry things faster than my standing there swearing at them, and then start to cry in the gas station parking lot, yeah, then there may be a title.

But not tonight.

I’m drinking. Heavily. As we have previously established, I didn’t eat today. I feel slightly ill. Just a little. I may go to bed soon. Maybe.

See y’alls tomorrow.


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