Once again, seems like I was JUST HERE. Yet the time stamp taunts me with accusations of blog abandonment. Get in line, I am abandoning everything. Personal grooming! The socially appropriate time frame for returning texts or phone calls! Expression of verbalized language! My brain is a smooth stone, skipping across a placid lake.

Feels quite like constructing myself a cocoon of situational depression. It is made of a weighted blanket snuggly and rainy weather conditions. From it, in 3-6 months, I will emerge a well rested butterfly of natural hair color, eyebrow shape, and boob sag. Your children will keep me in a netted cage and feed me orange slices. I will use the sourdough starter I’ve brought to entertain them with lopsided baked goods.

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Some things I’ve been considering:

-Indie film makers who were playing around with an apocalypse script right before this are stoked. The whole world is a 12 Monkeys set right now. Empty highways! Abandoned cityscapes! It’s perfect. A couple cameras and a single actor, you could go bomb diggity. I mean, at least until you got arrested for breaking the Stay At Home order. Then I guess they throw you in jail with all the other infectorinos and your movie takes on another type of apocalyptic setting all together.

-Continuing to call it Good Friday seems like a punch in the butt, Jesus-wise.

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Lulz

NSFW lyrics:

A lesser known Secret Lives of Peeps rePeep: Suprizebuttsecks.