-Feanor.Net :: Deeper Magic from the Dawn of Time-

The range of semi-applicable to absolutely viable reasons for not dispatching anything here is, after a bit of quick math, between two dozen and forty-three thousand. There have been planes, yes trains, and my automobile has been critically(HARDLY) scarred throughout this gross-ass season, not that anyone gives a shnarj of course... and really, it's a blessing-under-stars as any Wicker Parker that might behold the owner of his or her favourite java clubhouse banging around in a near-polished bimmer would probably drop a pile of insta-boycott on my ass that very second.

LE THOROUGH UNREMARKABLES...

a) Rachel McAdams(CARTOON JAW) sat in Ruth's dinner seat. Twice, maybe. And, without permission.
b) Highest point on St. Lucia? Conquered, by way of human feets.
c) A volcano blew up and nearly doubled the air time from UVF > JFK. Awesj.
d) Glen Beck was delivered via satellite far too often. Not surprisingly, he's still obese, shameless.
e) The WORMJOB(tm) CAFE probability gauge currently rates around 119%... excited, nobody isn't.
f) Smartness(tm) poured a pound of white mocha into his MacBook ('Blackie'); status, relegated to MediaServ.
g) Per the variety of obvious, I've now been required to consume A FUCKLOAD OF COFFEE, comparatively.
h) Consequently, my teeth are near-dead, think Sleepy Hollow, Walken, Christopher.
i) There are endless chicken/egg/embryo/proto/shell/casing dilemmas interlaced within the elements required for a hatchling business here. City/state/mayoralty, will you please, kindly converge, and look upon me, favourably? Yes, let's...
j) Oh, and my specs were destroyed. Via asian sleepzone punch-assault maneuver delta phi. It's quite effective, don't you know, though you mightn't...
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