A Wheeze of Relief

Ahhh. The cigarettes came today. Why did I start smoking menthols? Okay, actually, I know why, but it’s a long story and I don’t want to put it down here. Why do I ask rhetorical questions that aren’t really rhetorical?

In better news, in appears my father does not have a cold, and is merely allergic to the Christmas trees that he has been feverishly decorating. My father loves him some Christmas.

Other news? L.M. came over this evening and brought me her annual check of Way Too Much Money, which will go into the Miserly Science Fiction and Video Game Fund. None of my presents have arrived through the mail yet. What, you think that I, the Howard Hughes of the semi-employed, would actually LEAVE THE HOUSE to shop? What are you, a barbarian? That’s how people catch the black death and die of black cysts crawling up their inner thighs.

Less than 24 hours until I have that damned DVR hooked up. Life as I know it will change. I may actually be able to watch something not in the 10 PM to midnight timeframe.

Ahhh. Menthols.

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