I'm Jesus with a laser gun and you're all going to hell.

Definite autumnal whiff tonight. While jogging was somewhat overcome by a shroud of nostalgia with an oddly optimistic bent. It wasn't like I felt too much hope for the world at large or anything, but who does anyways? We don't want hope. We want chocolate with a caramel filling, a la mode, and hell yes throw some damn Hersheys syrup on there too. Fortunately, I have scraped up each of these things and am going to kill my own damn self Cathy-style before I get tooken out. Sugar and then beer while listening to the nihilistic stylings of the Velvets and PiL and then sinking into a fudge bog with Guam River and Spykes. Tainted love.