TL;DR: Send me a PM if you're interested in ripping my work apart.

Greetings from America, folks.

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Am no longer an Canadian man, but rather, an American man.

I've gained 20 pounds already.

Taaaaaaa-daaaaaaa

This blog was written 20,000ft off the ground.

For those coming off the last blog, I surprisingly didn't chicken out from flying. I was gripped by terror as I took my seat aboard the plane, and pretending it was just a bus didn't do any help what's so ever.

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I've hated flying since I was six.

You're stuffed in a cramped submarine with wings, shot off into the sky at over 10,000ft, and nothing but clouds and the roar of the engine surrounding you.

I know this, because I was six when I first rode a plane. The day before I was utterly terrified, almost coming to tears on the car ride to the store, where my mother picked me up some drugs to help me sleep.

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Got bitten by a dog.

Gotta be at the airport in a few hours.

Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Hey everybody, B here.

Sorry for the lack content as of late. I've been away from home for almost a week now, and its been screwing with me more than I'd like to admit. Fucking off to the great outdoors was pleasurable indeed, however, I'm at the point where I'd rather be back at home.

Too bad my ass will be on a plane instead, Lola.

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Greetings, folks.

I possess a peculiar fetish, one where I constantly compare myself to other writers, no doubt derived from my other fetish, where I compare my lack of personality to those whom I admire. Usually, fetishes create pleasure—these do anything but.

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