The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.

AUGH. I don't have a comic for you, whoever-reads-this; I am terrible. I am the worst. I have lame excuses that you don't want to read, so I'll just say: gomen, baby. Gomen.

Last Sunday night I had adventures, which were direly needed. They involved gothy folks in fabulous costumes, tasty beverages, posters of saved by the bell characters, motorboating?! and a...well, let's say a wide variety of conversation. I wore fancy shoes and didn't fall down? And I met people! And motorboat...ed some of them? That isn't really something I go around doing, mind you; it was at their insistence -- but it was a fun night. So, that is...something.

OMG YOU GUYS THIS IS THE BEST; WHY HAVEN'T YOU PLAYED THE LAST DOOR YET?!

LOOK AT THAT, OMFG. YOU CAN'T TELL HERE, BUT THEY GAVE ME AN ANIMATED BEE SWARM AND EVERYTHING. THESE GUYS ARE AMAZING; THEY ARE WIZAAAAARDSSSSSS  *Explodes from happiness*

And now, a Poetic Service Announcement:


<Barry White Voice>

Baby,
I know I work at a bookstore, but...
let me tell you somethin':
I don't care
what kind of books you read --
I'm not gonna
judge you, girl
just
swing those
oh those
honey-sweet eyes
right on over
to some William Gibson sometime;
that's all I'm askin' of you, baby.

</Barry White Voice>

Hey, these reinterpretations are pretty brilliant

I don't know where I belong;

I don't know where I went wrong --

but I can sing a song