Someday you're going to realize just what a genius I am, but not today

Because for today all I'm going to give you is this. BoomTube is changing.




















And, Jason has this going on:

















More info to come.

Nefarious Acts Committed Under The Cover of Darkness

I now present you with a dramatically drawn hypothetical reenactment of alleged activities, supposedly committed under the cover of darkness, theoretically.



[Close Scene]

Hypothetical Suburban Yard Wars, Or The One Where I Figure Out It's Easier For Me To Spell Hypothetical Than It Is Suburban...

Hypothetically speaking, let's say that there's this guy who lives on the corner in Suburbia. His lawn is immaculate. As a matter of fiction, he is a grass dork. He dorks out on having the best lawn on the block.

And he does. The shit is fantastically green and lush.

So much so that, hypothetically speaking, his friend allegedly threatens to piss on it all the time.

The other day Hypothetical Man noticed some hypothetical dandelions had cropped up. And when he looked across the hypothetical street he noticed that Presumably Jack Ass Neighbor on the opposite fictional corner hadn't mowed his grass that was more dandelion than not.

So let's keep up this really fucked up hypothetical mess and say that maybe,just maybe Hypothetical Man drank some alleged beers. Wait, that's not right. They actually were beer, that can be proved so I guess he drank beer. Just beer. And, maybe, just maybe the more he drank the more pissed off he got at the dandelions. He was revving up to be a mushroom cloud laying, dandelion killing mother fucker. But mostly, he just got pissed off at the guy that I totally just made up that lives across the street.

So Hypothetically Drunk Man allegedly went down into his imaginary garage and filled a completely theoretical sprayer with vegetation killer. Supposedly, he then under the cover of night, sprayed a good chunk of the Fuck Face Neighbor's lawn with the totally unproven chemical.

By the way, I'm speculating when I say he's a fuck face, I don't really know, for obvious reasons. However, I have a suspicion that Hypothetical Man might be presumed to be a huge douche for this. Especially when he raced outside the next morning to see the California Brown grass across the street.

What do you think?

Also? Hypothetical Man may have come into my room while I was laying in bed and shoved a spoonful of pudding parfait in my face last night.

I may have still been pissed off this morning.

That's my theory at least.

Hurry Up And Calm Down

For right now, the buzzing has stopped.

The part of me, inside, that seemingly vibrates and buzzes until I can't stand it anymore. I don't know if it's in my brain or in my body and I don't really know it's there until it's gone.

The sadness is quiet again.

The ache that makes me burst into tears. The longing that makes me explain away my watery eyes, all day long.

The veil of calm has been pulled back down. My stomach doesn't tell me to eat all day long. To eat and eat, because something, anything has to fill that hole. The void, the dark, buzzy nothing that is just always behind it all.

It's like a heavy, weighted blanket has been thrown over me. Snuggle down into it, allow it to comfort you.

And, I will.

I am.

I am comfortable again... for now. Snuggling in it before it gets ripped off me again. Yanked back from my sleepy, dopey head, ruffling my already ruffled hair.

I'm tossing and turning in it. Trying to get every inch of the cool before it becomes warm and itchy again.

Because it will.

Itch.