Doubt and good times.

Never a pleasant face-off, given how much my life is ruled by both of said things.

This weekend's winner is doubt, however, though beloved good times make a solid showing.

My apologies to Swulius Caesar and Mr. Clifford for not calling back in a timely fashion. Circumstances dictated, etc. No thanks to the principle that has simultaneously kept me true to myself and as far away as I am from my beloved. I'm fucked, no matter how much effort and cardiac/mental effort I put forth. I think. Sorry, y'all.

If it's any consolation, I'm drunk and I'm enjoying some fine Texan metal. No, it's no consolation. It never has been and probably never will be...

This is why I stand alone.


now playing: The Sword, Age of Winters