I thought the afterlife wasn't supposed to be like this.

Why does it have to be like this?

Why?

Why?!

What the hell did he do? What did he do wrong? I don't understand. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.

Why is this even bothering me so much? It's not like he's done anything super-nice for me. I can't even pronounce his name.

Why is this hitting me ( Read more... )

Some handsome devil seems to have painted the clock tower yellow.

The fiend.

What's next? Flowerbeds and mailboxes and sidewalks?

Hey, Whoever-is-my-boss-today: two things; One, can I get out of running at such ungodly hours with a doctor's note, and two, can I get paid for not coming to work if I'm working on building a weapon to use for work?

On that ( Read more... )