Edward Champion's Return of the Reluctant

Just Dooce Me Already and Put Me Out of My Damn Misery

My bed was too comfortable today. I didn't want to leave. I had found one of the five good spots on my futon. There was interesting stuff on the radio. And now I am contending with overpaid boors who throw temper tantrums over picayune crap.

Like Jimmy Beck (though sans hangover), the Cruel Overlords of Life are preventing me from posting witty ramblings, or even going into nice reminiscences about grandmothers. Factor in chronic insomnia and you get the sluggish portrait in full. It's going to be light today and tomorrow because of assholes. We apologize, but we're chipper. The bastards haven't gotten us down and we're pro-active.