|Astonishingly billed as 'Well-being hot dogs'...|
Gotta start a profound clean-up of my little apartment/hovel. There is an epic shitpile on my balcony that's taller than me, and I fear it. I'm thinking there's a healthy slab of wet cardboard and spider eggs at the bottom. I can see a rotting guitar case and clothes that don't fit me draped on top.
Hey, Fargo is on tv again, sweet. What the heck d'you mean?
Surprising to some I'm sure, Parched March continues.