Chapter Eight

[take_theride]

This past weekend I drank about 60% of my body weight in Wild Turkey. I do not regret it. While wondering whether or not I should get my stomach pumped, I came to a realization: I have nothing fucking better to do with my life, here

Comments

[hisforonehour]

I would say that you could write about how there's nothing to write about, but you're already doing that.

[take_theride]

Clever.

Doesn't make me much of a journalist, does it?

[hisforonehour]

Not really.

If you want something to write about, just find a random person to interview. Like...one of the superhero team leaders maybe? I don't know.

[take_theride]

I'll be interviewing the jail's security later this week.

After that... I think I have something different in mind.

[hisforonehour]

Ooh, what?

[take_theride]

Well, it depends. I have to get in contact with someone. Just promise me when it happens you won't get too worried.

[hisforonehour]

I'm worried now, Mr. Duke.

But okay. I won't get too worried.