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Thursday, 16 February 2017

In which, what's the point? ...

Feeling extra gloomy today and surplus to the requirements of the Grand Plan, if there is one.

Who would have thought that the disruption of my routine by the loss of a shitty little part time job could have resulted in this chasm of misery.

Shall shut self in Underground Lair so as not to litter up the town with my miserable hairy face.  Yes, am even too depressed to harvest any super-floo-us hairs and currently resemble a hirsute, morbidly obese Catweazle.

Shall amuse self by pulling out broken veins with a quick-unpick and then hold breath until turn blue.

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