Warlord

I got reacquainted this morning with an old friend. That friend being a certain special kind of pain that comes from waking up to an alarm clock. It's been a little while and waking up early is a feeling that makes me re-evaluate everything about my life. I've always been fascinated by the fact that if you wake up by your own unconscious at 8:01am everything is usually bliss, but if your alarm wakes you up one minute prior you feel like you've been steamrolled and you'd rather bath in whatever smells inside the penguin exhibit than stand up. Waking up makes an already soul stealing day job that much worse, it accounts for a third of it's crap-tas-tick-ness. The previous few lines were not meant to lead anyone into thinking I have a job.

I'm fixing to abuse some power. If and when I get some stroke I plan to use it. I walk around and see all these crazy decks, roof tops, and battlements on the top of stunning buildings. When the time comes you money bags who occupy these structures should expect communication from my personal assistant, as I plan to check a lot of these places out. I just want to see what's going on up there, chill on some roof top garden, and look out your tiny stain glass window. Just a heads up, I know my demographic, and it's almost a certainty that people who inhabit these spaces read this regularly.

To my man who pulled up his turtle neck and sneezed into it on the subway today, thanks...I guess? I hate germs but probably would have preferred you just let fly into the subway car. It's the old case of me wondering what was going on inside your shirt made me want to barf even more.