Heya kids-

Not a long one tonight. Started the new gig today and, man, I've forgotten just how goddamned taxing it is to spend eight hours doing just the one thing.

Oy.

Had a nice weekend, though. Dinner and drinks last night w/Buttons & The Young & Pal A, and later their pals James & Michelle. Apparently, after proving my worth as James' steed in front of The People's Pub while he screamed "Who run Bartertown? Me run Bartertown!", I'm going on payroll as James' thug. James is a psychopath. A really, really good guy, but a psycho. What does being a thug for a psycho make me? I will mention that at one point in the evening we were all in Pal A & The Young's living room discussing the Afro wigs and leisure suits we'd wear while chasing down criminals, and how we'd use our gold-plated shotguns and pistols to threaten them, at which Pal A suggested that we should not only truly threaten by placing our firearms squarely against one testicle, but that we should make the criminal himself hold out that testicle for us.

Y'know, as much as I knew she had that in her, I'm still shocked.

I'm out. Futurama's one in five and I need a smoke.

Sleep good, babies.

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