I celebrate six months of consistently putting out garbage every week. I talk about quitting my job, having a difficult weekend with the girlfriend and mincing poodles.

The twenty-sixth one

I don’t know what this is. I don’t know why I’m doing this. I don’t have any expectations from this. There’s a significant chance that no one will ever read this. There’s an even more significant chance that no one will ever hear this. Why does this exist? Why is this here? I don’t know.

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The twenty-sixth one

The twenty-sixth one