Remedial Insanity

Holy balls, that last post is just one enourmous whirlwind fuckstorm of nonsense. That's like if you bombard a thought process with gamma rays and make it angry, then it trips acid and watches 40's movies. Actually it wasn't that bad, but it was definately a rant. Sometimes you just start a thought, and it just fucking takes off, dragging you in its wake, bouncing along whatever concepts of reality you still have a semblance of. Ranting is a good thing when you find yourself just sitting around, either because you've already massacred the colony of evil space goblins threatening Earth and you're just waiting for the mayor to call you with your next mission, or you're just too lazy to put any effort into existing at the moment.Whatever your reason, it's pretty relieving once it's out of your head. Alright, I've typed what must be typed for this evening, so I'll be off to whatever fucked up and wonderful adventures await me in the land of my subconcious. I have a feeling it will involve bears and yellow neckties, and hopefully nothing to do with slenderman this time (subconcious you douchebag).  Goodnight world, enjoy your eight to twelve hours of me being unconcious, you deserve a reprieve.