Like most days, my morning routine found me having yet another staring contest with myself. I'm not weird, I simply enjoy holding onto the sides of my sink and locking eyes with the visage representing me for the rest of the day. As the information feed usually isn't that enthralling, I'm forced to do some simple maintenance so that anyone unlucky enough to knock on my door doesn't think they've accidentally ended up at Gary Busey's house. Brush teeth, apply last of deodorant stick, smooth out dark, forbidden forest that used to be my eyebrows, run hands through...uh oh.
rage against the [sound] machine
8 hours ago