No seriously! A full on stroke. Went to hospital and everything.

Was not fun.

Also, strokes tend not to have as much flailing as you'd think. More like twitching uncontrollably.

But I'm okay now! Mostly.

"Hey, Aussie? When you gonna be done with a new chapter of The Virginal Princess?"

"Silence Penultimo, my work as El Presidente is never done! Stupid protests..."

"My... My name isn't Penultimo..."

So, yeah, I bought me some Tropico 4 and 5, and now I CAN"T STOP PLAYING IT! Stupid sizzling Latino beats.

I am amazed at how hard it is to come up with innuendo jokes, and have situations where there can be massive misunderstandings which lead to funny situations.

I'm kind of running out... though I wonder if I can stretch it out with carpet cleaning.

The biggest problem that Twilight is facing was that Stan Johnson, the security chief, was insane.

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The sun sat still in the sky, beating down with harsh heat onto brown dirt plains strewn with small boulders. Long green trees made up of a single trunk/leaf stretched up in thousands, hundreds of thousands, into the sky. Nestled in the shadows of two great, four legged shapes was a small compound. The compound stretched for some distance, and every space not filled with buildings and runways, were graves. Hundreds and hundreds of graves.

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...Found yourself unable to continue writing a story ecause you've just realized that a character is becoming a vocal point for YOU and that the story is now becoming an author tract?

Do you know why we, as humans, are at the top of the current food chain? Not because we're hard to kill (well, with the exception of "Will Badass for Food" Statham). We're not; we're little more than tasty flesh bags waiting for an errant horn or claw to spill our guts like a meat pinata. No, we're on top simply because we are so absurdly good at killing things ourselves. A good offense, as they say, is the best de-LOOK THERE'S A DUCK! MURDER IT!

This is gonna piss you off. I had a 7000+ word chapter, all on my GARNET Flash Drive, but it's gone. All of it. The whole thing. And I'm pissed too.

The following segemt was completely cut out. Basically, because halfway through writing it I realized that it made Shining Armour look like a whingy ponce.

It didn’t take long for Shining Armour to approach. Shining, however, was not what anypony would exactly call presentable; his armour was poorly fitted, his mane was a tussled mess, and he obviously hadn’t cleaned himself before work.

“So then,” Shining said, scratching his ear with a hoof, “What’s going to happen today?”

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You know what annoys me? People who say I've got no right to complain because there are those who have it worse than me. You know what? that is the most retarded thing I've ever heard. I can't complain unless I'm worse off than anyone else? Is that it?

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