Have you read The Count of Monte Cristo? You probably should, boys, because it'll blow your fucking socks off. Please, for the love of your skin, wear some socks while you read the damn thing—skinless feet ain't exactly the hottest fetish these days.

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Troubled. I am writing this blog because I am troubled.

Why am I troubled? There's no real 'good' reason behind it. Plethora upon a plethora of reasons bug the ever living shit outta me, but no matter which one I choose to dissect, none of them ever appear, or reveal, to be a good enough reason.

The thing that troubles me now, on December the nineteen, at six o' clock, in two-thousand and eighteen, is the death of Harlan Ellison.

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