it's only the end of the world

terribly quiet day, here at the duck factory. burning off the hours till i can leave. clearly, most of my "readers" are away on holiday already, as evidenced by the utter lack of commenting today. so i'm writing another entry for my own edification.

what shall gollum -- i mean, "malice" do this evening...? no one is around. no plans to meet with anyone. guess it's just back to the fortress after work. cuddle up with a bottle of liquid solace. perhaps tanqueray? i've been hitting the jack like i've been touring with guns n' roses...

i could go out, but i am broke this week. and i've already got plans to buy myself some new ink and get wasted in public on christmas eve.

so. home. solitary. fortress. booze. maybe i'll screen "a christmas story" for myself, as i've yet to see it this season. it always puts me in the mood for the holiday, though i don't actually feel like being in the mood this year. maybe i'll be inspired to write a little. maybe i'll just be inspired to pass out.

why are you still reading this?