I've got ONE follower, read 'em, bitch. That's one more than I had a week ago, and one more than I had in the week before that, and before that, and before that, and before that; seriously, all the weeks that have come before this one? No followers. This week? One follower. Count 'em. That cheered me up immensely, and it was especially appreciated because my head hurts so much I am almost 100% sure that someone is putting up new shelving units for my neurons; not that the gregarious buggers need any more room, there's only about four left. Last night I said to someone: "Don't be rude, I've got all my facilities." I then turned round, and walked into a door. Seriously, I have no cells left upstairs; at least the Alzheimer's will be easy!
Wanton stupidity aside, it turns out that I have no morals; I am completely depraved, a sex-crazed, licentious bugger. It's moral turpitude! It's disgusting. Someone get on me, so then we don't have to worry about that anymore.
Final thought: Egregious is a fantastic word.
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