I am the first person to admit when I have made a mistake, assuming somebody catches me, calls me out, and forces me to do it. Even though it happens so infrequently I have likened the probability to that of a black hole evaporating to nothingness through mass loss via Hawking radiation alone, it still bothers me. In this case I am issuing a major mea culpa. I freely admit this was a really dumb idea. First of all I am super tired already, it’s 7:20pm for chrissakes. Secondly my wrists and fingertips hurt from so much typing the past few days combined with the very poor ergonomics of my writing station aka sitting up in my bed with laptop fulfilling its name given function. Thirdly I don’t feel like writing at the moment and I say if you don’t feel like writing then don’t write. All the greatest writers embraced that simple philosophy. Finally my cat Teebee just threw up in my bed sitting right next to me. Ewww. Fucking gross. Damn cat, what is wrong with her. She is fat as fuck for one thing.