Ah. Time to crack the knuckles and get back to the actual work of writing, not scrawling pusillanimous shit on Facebook. I hate writing. It’s real work, and I am averse to that. Indolent, lazy, self-aggrandizing, these describe me well.

I do, however, owe you something. Perhaps the Great Meldrim Train Wreck. 1959. A Seaboard Coastline train derailed, with liquified natural gas. Spread across the river. Boom! 23 people enjoying the Ogeechee River, torched.

Tragedy. On the upside this film I’m watching just went unexpectedly soft core porn. I’m happy. Are you happy? I expect not.

Send me pictures. I need to fluff this page up. Thankee!


  1. Does this mean you’ll be posting your pusillanimous shit here instead?

  2. Yes. I may block you, however.

    1. "I have been blocked by a Master". Anyway, that's what I'll tell 'em.

  3. You know I love you, James. Not in the gay way, howsomever. You can't have it all!


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