I came. I saw. I fished.
This photo isn’t me. Also remember this kids; the surgeon general warns that corncob pipes should never be smoked when they’re bigger than your spleen.
Vene, vidi, uh, pisci? Pre-coffee here, internet flaky, so the sorta-Latin is as good as I’m gonna do. I need a nap…
’bout damn time.
An on-going serialized novella. Lesbian squirrel harness the power of Swedish disco to erase common sense. When drone strikes, trans-species raptors, and a racist bear all fail, two brilliant college dropouts in a Subaru are mankind’s last hope. We’re probably doomed.
You will receive new posts by email (and nothing else).