In other news, people have told me I snore, but I have no proof of that. Fuck, I'm wired on cola. Like a cola fiend or something. Fiending away on cola, hunched over a laptop, looking for free online games that involve blowing the fuck out of ever-advancing zombies with a wide array of upgradeable and realistic weaponry. And contemplating the intricacies of life. Yeah yeah yeah.
I'm appalled at how many times I fall for buying a t-shirt that looks big enough for me, then I wash it once, and hey presto I'm wearing a goddamn midriff exposing, ultra-tight, stupid-looking little baby t-shirt. It's my cursed stout Shatner torso. Shitcrap.
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