UGGHHHH remember when work wouldn't let me live??

I think I would be either a) killing myself, or b) very exalted in the altitude of my person-ness, or in short being horrible either way, if work hadn't already plugged every single sinapsis I have available now --granted I've killed many during the years. so I haven't had much choice but doing the johnnie walker and propelling on.

so in the end, are these architectures, pretentions.... or eyelash problems?? stop the WOOKIE! WOot!! pirates all aboard!

(by the way, shopping is stupid, not a single decent looking black hoodie in the whole town..... but I managed my coveted underwear catharsis, that marvelous moment when I am the new owner of pretty new underwear, that has NEVER been touched, looked at, clawed at, not to mention removed by/torn by any guy. then I feel clean & pure again, like I can... maybe look at a happy couple on the street and not evoke SHARK WEEK in the discovery channel or wish for angry pitbulls to tear me apart in 80 agonizing bites.)

while I'm free, a memory:

B: R, top five musical crimes perpetuated by stevie wonder in the 80s and 90s. go. subquestion: is it in fact unfair to criticize a formerly great artist for his latter day sins, is it better to burn out or fade away?

(of course, this is on I Just Called to Say I Love You, High Fidelity.)