O, Holy Pi Day.

Zach Galifianakis at the Purple Onion. lol'd hard. The whole hour long video's on YouTube, but here's the first 10 minutes of it since the whole hour long video's not embeddable.

Here y'ar, deary:

In other news, i'm writing ANOTHER new song. It starts off slow and then kind of gets fast and aggressive at the end, and it's about a very obscure subject. I like how I'm writing about different things. Like, You Look Like A Freemason's nonsensical, PTSD is about a legitimate relationship problem, and this is about a small event that happened back in the era of the Roman Empire. And I want to record all this so badly. I'm probably gonna steal headphones from someone soon so I can get to recording again. I don't want my parents to pay for a pair since they've been providing me with money that I keep blowing off. I'm actually starting to feel sick whenever I have to ask my parents for money. I need a job. I legitimately need a job. at this point, I don't care if I'm wiping shit off of the bottom of people's shoes. As long as it pays $7 an hour and I can work weekends for a few hours a week, that's all I need. I need something. I'm tired of mooching, I really am. Feel like scum. It's funny. When you're a kid, whenever you ask for money, it's nothing. Your parents provide for you whenever you want. Maybe our consciences aren't fully developed then. But then, at some unknown point, you start feeling guilty. Maybe that's when you know your childhood's over. Goodbye, swingset. Hello, W2 forms.

Wind's whipping something awful outside. I'm fearing another power outage. If this is the case, then you'll know why I'm not blogging for the next couple of days. I'll make up those three days I missed throughout the year still, I promise. I'm determined to have 365 blogs at the end of this year.

That's all I have to say today, OK?

~-~