In a vain bid at stemming the apparently unending tide of loneliness and, and I'm trying to find a nicer word for pointlessness but I long ago swore I was better than using a thesaurus, I've taken to reading about Warhammer 40,000. Partly because it's repugnantly fascinating, and mostly because I hate myself.
So I swear to God you guys, I will become that guy, the guy who spends eight thousand dollars on tiny action figures and smells like hot dogs in the back of some decrepit hobby shop named something vaguley sinister like "The Black Dungeon" and never come out of there, ever.
Send help.
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2 comments:
Dude, you're just going to become me. turn back now.
I would try to stop you, but considering how you talked about me in your last entry, I think you deserve this fate.
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