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Welcome to the new normal, followers, failures and philanderers (who I love just the way you are). Horses in the pool, unspoken alienation and allegiance, patricide, matricide, and everything in between. It sure is a lot to keep track of, yeah? It’s time to blow this popsicle stand, so bring Maris a machine gun, and turn Warble loose, because they’re all out of bubblegum, and eat pieces of crap like these for breakfast!
It’s the first law of the wasteland, always keep one in the chamber for the ferryman. Things have a tendency to go Murphy out here, and he’s an expensive date to please. Sit tight, and sqwunch your toes in the carpet, because things are gonna get loud and proud in all the worst ways; like three hour spoken word interpretive dance kinda ways. Ya feel me?
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