Caliban - Bastard Son of the Obscene (thedarklinglord) wrote,
Caliban - Bastard Son of the Obscene

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Unsubstantiated suppositions of my bodily decomposition have been immensely hyperbolized.

Though, I do appreciate the e-mails, IM's, and voice messages. From Been thinking about you. Drop me a line. and Want to tell you I miss you. to
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Though, I do appreciate the e-mails, IM's, and voice messages. From <i>Been thinking about you. Drop me a line.</i> and <i>Want to tell you I miss you.</i> to <i?Get your punk ass on Yahoo, bitch!</i> and <i>Dude, if you're dead, can I have your DVD collection?</i> you've reminded me why I loathe people.

I jest.

Seriously, I've missed my journal (on occasion) and feel bad about neglecting my friends, acquaintances, and enemies herein. However, with the cooler weather of autumn months and the glee of the holiday season I find I'm a far more social creature. (I can hear someone in Orlando saying, "Then why the hell haven't you been out here recently?" I'll get to you soon enough.) In any event, the last few months have drained me and I'll likely slip back into my reclusive, anti-social, misanthropic ways come the new year. And, as such, I'll likely endeavor to make regular posts once more. (Please, try to contain your joy.) I may even enable comments again, since I sort of miss that interaction, even though you, my readers, had this infuriating habit of ignoring posts that would specifically pose questions or request opinions while flooding my Inbox with comments on the most mundane of entries. Bless you...and damn you.

I may or may not commit the happenings of these last few months: concert experiences, social developments, relationship disasters, daily rantings, and all the other tidbits of my life that I jotted down, but never bothered to enter here. (Chances are I won't, because I'm a creature of habit, and slothfulness and procrastination are...)

In the meanwhile, I invite you all to experience <a href="">The Meatrix</a> - which is both amusing and frightening, because it's true.

And until the next time, I leave you with the these words: All I want for Christmas is the human race to bleed. That, and a good blowjob. Er, but I don't want the blowjob from Santa, because that's just creepy and disturbing. *shudder*

Happy Holidays!
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