August sucks tepid ass. That must be what we get for naming the month after a man instead of after a god.

I've had a low fever for the past three days and I don't know what's up with that shit.

I feel weird, though.

On one hand, I just don't give a fuck. Like, a lot. I don't care what happens to me, what will happen to me, etc.. It doesn't matter. Whatevah.

And then I feel like dying because I suck.

Funny how that works, huh?

Luckily, the apathy trumps the loathing and it's all good. No, really.

I will now repeat this for emphasis: I feel weird.

Feelings go away after awhile and then things will be fucking great.

The best thing to do right now is to talk about how cool things will be in the future. Like what we'll do when we get our own place, a job that we love, a book deal, a pet pirate, you know. And come up with drinking games and prank calls. Shit like that. Talking big can be a good thing if you let it, right? I've got some skeletal plans for when I'm famous and that's something nice to think about before I go to sleep.

I don't know what I'm talking about. I'm tired.

And I feel weird.

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