Well, the ‘human went and got shitfaced before coming up with today’s column. Now I’m staring at the roof of this goddamned cave, trying to think, like I have so many times before. All I see is cold, brown cement, and even colder silver tubes running every which fucking way.

Where do they go?

No way to track all those things, but I know where they go. To Hell.

And Hell isn’t a black dungeon with white-hot flames. It’s a brown cave with pastel iMacs. The one I’m using is aqua-green/teal-blue/new-toiletwater.

Damn, I wish I hadn’t mentioned that word. Even puking sounds funner than typing.

Friday’s forecast: Sorry if that wasn’t funny. Wait, fuck you! No, wait, I’m sorry. No, fuck you! I’m sorry, ignore me, I’ m drunk. What? Fuck you!