I'VE GOT A SUPPLY OF CHOCOLATE AND I KNOW HOW TO USE IT!

The apartment mate took a sick day today. Probably for her sanity's sake. Which may not be the best idea, because I'm here. Several weeks ago she said: "I always listen to you, even when you babble the most inane shit, old geezer." Which rather suggests that I am not the best choice of company if you wish to maintain your equilibrium.

Especially now while I'm hepped on the last of the Christmas chocolate.

She's currently asleep in her room.

I'm wired to the tits and arguing with a turkey vulture about fatty inner thighs. The crazed beast is obsessed. He doesn't realize that at the place which was taking care of him before I adopted him as a member of this household the only carrion he ate was dust bunny. He believes himself entitled to fresh corpse daily, and keenly wishes me to bash some of the ancient and decrepit fossils in Marin over the head and harvest choice body parts.

It will not happen. I treasure the old farts too much.

Care for some hot chocolate, little dude?



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