E-mail excerpt of the day: "Don't be no Cho Seung-Hui, you call my ass before you take Matrix shots at your semi-circle of poets...silly North Koreans, they mess up everything good. Wow... think Uncle Cheney was listening in on that one?! sorry "The Government" maybe next time you'll let the little guy's grandparents out the 33rd parallel and not melt their faces off with fake carepackages; buy my chicken! BOOM! diversify yo bonds n****! RROOOOF!
Sra. Plannery Dumplin Buns"
God, I love that man. Anyway, it was about the quietest day ever, with sheets of raining dumping across Adelaide from dawn 'til dusk. Didn't go outside. Barely left my room. Got really close to achieving my goal of 4 solid hours of writing. Some of it even resembled quality work. The goal tomorrow will be more realistic, since it's Rachel's birthday and we're having dinner and drinks to celebrate. I'll shoot for 2 hours. Hell, if I could manage 2 solid, productive hours each day I'd be unstoppable. Most days I'm lucky to get 45 minutes.
Drink Count: 0
No picture today, but you get something far, far better. Just click play and enjoy:
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