You can't get rid of me that easy....

Last thursday i had my anual(ish) progress review. I had to stand up and tell my committee that I have been working really hard and that I am a valuable member of this department.

guess what.....they bought it. Suckers.

Truth is, i spend most of my time on here trying to think of something to write. But, I have found that since i have started sharing my imagination with you fuckers, all you do is use your brain leaching powers to suck every last drop of inspiration out of me. None of you are getting a christmas card this year.

Some good did come out of this though. i used to have an imaginary friend. His name was Aloisius Funderburque Esquire III. I hated him. He was a rather pretentious prick. All he would do is talk about how he was going to grow up and be a space cowboy. And he would tell me that if I didn't play with him, his father was a gangster of love and would seduce my mother and she would give birth to a real version of him and not just the imaginary one i had to deal with. I would slave away doing chores all day while he delegated everything he had to do to a cambodian refugee his parents bought off and INS official. All she would do is work because they threatened to deport her to Laos if she didn't. They didn't even have to feed her. One of the benefits of having a south eastern asian slave is that they grow up with nothing, so letting them loose in the alley out back with a butter knife is more than enough for her to capture rats and dumpster dive to sustain herself. But since ya'll stole my imagination, he died. I hope it was a slow and painful death. And i hope his cambodian refugee ate him to survive.