maybe it's some weird yankee decorum thing, but it still blows my mind that someone chooses to bear their souls to utter strangers in a thread situated between musings on "anal accidents" and "rocco's awesome, he clearly isn't showing ravages of a retroviral infection, bad lighting makes everyone look like they've got scabies". we hide things, drink and buy sailboats in times of crisis, that kind of extroversion makes the people trying to get on reality tv look modest.

i had ebola this weekend, and adt was fun for a few hours only because i found an austrian with really easy buttons to push and i probably wasted 8 hours of his life writing riled-up yet usually flawed replies. it was like faking out a dog by holding onto the tennis ball he thinks you threw--i'd say something serious, then make reference to the snl skit "sprockets" with mike myers as deiter. i definetly raised his blood pressure to the point where some militant opera, a soccer riot and mention of metternich would make him want to march and annex things, nyquil rules.

hey nietzsche, i don't believe you really shook schopenhauer, but post here sometimes dammit. a world outside of porn is begging for it.