You and me

Let’s discuss this, now. You’ve been hurting these past months. While I’ve been gallivanting about Europe and Africa, spending and making money, breaking and mending hearts, purchasing and consuming foodstuffs, you’ve been at home, shivering under a blanket you stole from Southwest Airlines the one time you ever flew in an airplane. The blanket doesn’t even cover your feet, so you have to wear your socks to bed — your holey, ratty socks. And by “to bed” I mean “as you lie curled up on the floor like a mangled Slinky” (even though you’re curled up, the blanket still doesn’t cover your feet — that’s awful).

I was surprised to see that my hits have actually gone up, but then I realized the pattern — your anxiety has grown to the point where you now do nothing but refresh Tinspeaker.com all day, mindless, automatic, subhuman. You’ve been reduced to the status of automaton, and for that I am sorry. Do know that my advertising revenue has increased dramatically, and for that I am grateful (this is actually false; I don’t even know how to put up Google ads on the site).

So what now? Does this post signal the return of the king? We’ll see. In the meantime, as always, the back catalogue remains open for business. Get at it.

Bet you though that link was going to be Lord of the Rings, didn’t you? Idiot.

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