Falling Sick

Whatever don't kill me will make me stronger...

Whatever don't kill me will make me stronger...

Whatever don't kill me will make me stronger...

Nabeh.

Death by Talking

Of all the ways I thought I would die, I never thought I'd get talked to death.

I mean, it's ME. It's like trying to drown a fish in water.

And still, against all odds, I was this close to dying in a deluge of meaningless words, or reaching through the phone and causing massive bodily injury.

Shows. When you think you have reached your limit, you reach beyond and surprise yourself.

*pat pat pat* Well done, Edmund.

Thank you.

Today is a GOOD day.

Today, is a good day.

Today, Blogger decides to go back to normal. I therefore forgive the powers that be, and thank them for letting out of blogging purgatory.

Today is the first day after my reservist. I therefore thank THOSE powers that be, for letting me out of the jungle hell I was in, where I become reaquinted with why I hate cold and wet and why I strongly believe that all mosquitoes should be on the highly endangered animals list. (Can anyone find out if mosquitoes are good for virility?)

Today, I finally slept more than 2 hours. My bed misses me, and communion is sweet, wonderful and too short. I thank the powers that be, for the unconditional acceptance of my bloster, my pillow, and my blanket. Wilderness camping is over rated.

Today, I can tell the world, I have seen my first wild boar, and concluded that a Steve Irwin impression is enough to freak any animal out.

Today, I see a herd of chicken. I shit you not. It is a herd. There's no other word for a group of chicken walking along and grazing along the grass patch in all the slow regal-ness of the wilderbeasts of the serengeti. I give you... A herd of chicken.