Oh hey there children! Being the pretty, charming, worldly people that I'm sure you all (both?) are, perhaps at some point in your travels you have heard the whispers uttered in the darkest corners of taverns and brothels by grimy, fearful patrons bathed in the sputtering light of a candle. Perhaps you have heard the rumors, accompanied by fearful glances and the crash of thunder. Perhaps only a few hushed words here and there, or perhaps only the sound of dogs barking or infants shrieking in terror. I am posting to inform you (all two of you, provided that you're still alive) that yes, it's true. It's all true. What you have heard is correct. Alex Petersen is still alive, and intends to resume posting regularly on Paper Arrows. Lock up yer' kids and spouses (and baby goats, if you have any), because for the time being, I have returned.
As I'm sure you've been terribly worried about me, and unable to sleep at night due to fretting your little brains over the whereabouts of dear old Alex, I'll attempt to placate you with a brief explanation of my absence. Okay. I went to Hell, but then the princess wanted me to find the gravy pumper, so I had to leave and go to Diego's house and ask him where he left the keys to his meat. All we could find was a motorcycle, so we needed to stop at Wendy's for the secret password. Diego's died, but I missed him so I dressed up Tj as Diego and pretended that it was still him, but it's okay because Diego's back now and Aidan found where we left the flux capacitor, and now we're all good. There were bears everywhere, and everyone fell in love with us. Ohh, it was AMAZING! Oh, you should have seen it. It was really something.
Anyhow, I'm back because it's only 1am, and I tend to feel unjustified in sleeping before 2am. Seeing as I still had an hour or so to kill, and I didn't particularly want to spend that time doing something productive away from the computer, I decided to dust the cobwebs off of Paper Arrows and throw together a quick, crappy post. Foof. I must admit, I missed typing on this old cybersmear of a blog. It's nice just to have a little corner of the internet to call your own. Comforting, in a way that some may venture to (perhaps justifiably) call a tad pathetic. Oh pissersticks, I am back, here's a post, go to bed now. I think I'm done typing for tonight. I'm not even going to read over this for spelling and grammar mistakes, so if this post looks like it was typed by a drunken third grader, you know why.
Goodnight Children, and welcome back.
Please wipe your feet before you come in.
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