I don’t go out a lot, but I went out last night. And I came home to a ransacked house. I heart Jesus.

It had to happen eventually. 7 years surrounded by animals, and you’re bound to get bit. I’m honestly shocked it took so long. The first few years I was so paranoid I was going to be shived in my sleep. Then nothing. I guess I had it coming.

Anyhoo, the fuckers took my computer, so I probably won’t be updating much. I’m posting this through sheer force of will. I’ve also lost all my contacts and e-mails and pictures and pretty much anything I had been dicking around with for the last few years. And all my Dear John letters. Whatever will I do? So if you don’t hear from me, or think I forgot your birthday (sorry, Jeff), or generally feel like you’re dead to me, it’s not because human beings are worthless, dirty cockroaches who I’d just as soon make watch their parents and children dismembered as acknowledge their right to breathe my air. Probably.

Nancy Pelosi just turned into Charlie Brown’s teacher.

Because I’ve been to this particular Cracker Barrel, and I know they do not tolerate rowdy children, and I don’t know if the window was cracked.

Man in wheelchair stuck on lorry turns out to be a Pepper too.

Spoiler Alert! If you didn’t like last night’s Sopranos, you’re a hopeless douche. End Spoiler.

So it’s all over. And people are pissed. I’m sure you’ve seen or heard all the “I want to see more violence. I want to see more people dead” (I just cut & pasted that from here), but no one speaks for America like Kelly Ripa.

Racing really is just a metaphor.