I reread yesterday's blog twice yesterday, once feeling the effects of the night before, and once to consider deleting it, as it's pretty embarrassing.
But then I realized that post probably gives people good insight as to a lot of how I spend my life. I try to make things as strange as possible for myself as a compulsion, not by choice. It might not be the most exciting life or as rewarding as playing by the book, but I hold out hope that someone is watching with morbid curiosity at any given time, and have a weird laugh about a drunk person babbling about little Wayne.
Anyways, happy Superbowl, everyone. My gift to you is I'm going to stop writing this right now.
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