Loganthinks

oh man.

paul.

your journal story was good

but some chick posted a response and it totally stole your thunder.

OMGWTFBBQ

listen mr late night black jack computer game

kiss my ass with your always beats my 19

i may owe you 1500 "virtual dollars"

but you are going to have to gather up

your faggoty virtual ass and come over here

and take them out of my virtual money bin

because i'm fucking scrooge mc fucking duck

i will fuck your shit right up

you may have the "odds" on your side

but wait

let's see how you like my non-rational betting schemes

"all in?" you ask. "on the first hand?"

you realize now that i have found your weakness. fear flashes across your nondescrpt pixelated features.

"are you sure?"

McDuck is always sure.

And what's this mr. dealer? it seems you are over "21"

i mean

i'd let it slide

but i think that is against the rules of this game, so...


i'm rich, bitch.



and also

i'm the man now

dog







...because life has recently devolved into something so unstable and skitzophrenic
that i can almost see the colors changing and the writing on the walls

mr. virtual blackjack dealer will be my bitch tonight

fuck you television

fuck you band that is no more

fuck you rainy towson

logan, you're cool

and fuck you colony apartments

I'm out.