Hey there,
Glad you could make it. Gloomy day today, innit?
Where were we the last last time we met? Times Square, right. Oh yeah, Times Square on New Year's eve, hoping to catch Lady Gaga dropping the ball(s?), whatever that means.
Good times, man, good times. Those were the days. We would get up early in the morning, do a quick run, run to the shower, nude as a child's butt before entering the stalls, and stall in there for as long as we could. Stall in the stalls. Jokes. And then we would all have an all-out multiracial-multispecies orgy. All of this is false, duhh. Open your eyes, sheeple (sheep people are, confusingly enough, not people who fornicate with sheep or the unlikely products of the human-sheep amorous relations -- they are merely called so because of their nature as blind followers).
I have too many things I want to write about, but few that I will actually write about. Such is the human condition. And life goes maddeningly on.
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