I think my journal muse is dead, or on a coma, but I'll try this anyway.
What killed or incapacitated said muse? The Apple of my eye, and heart, of course. Most stuff I would normally talk about in my journal, I talk about with her.
Life has been crazy lately, I'm working all the time...but barely/only making enough money to live in enough relative comfort (relative as in, if you give a starving Nigerian child a couch cushion, he's comfortable) to keep me from going out of my way to find a second job, or a full time job. Although my transportation is limited entirely to my hooves, as I'm reminded of every time i need something -_-...so that makes it hard to find somewhere around here to work, excluding prostitute, hitman, pimp, drug dealer, or guy-who-walks-around-touching-himself-and-swearing-under-his-breath-and-smelling-like-bowels-and-insanity...oh wait, that's not a paid job, but I still saw that guy. If I were the Batman, or more realistic equivalent, he might be my less-spectacular-than-the-Joker nemesis, that kind of crazy guy who has the look in his eye of someone who doesn't "fit" in society in any way, and is just out to take from and hurt other people >_>...or he might just be a harmless crazy, who knows.
In other news, I've been cautiously browsing 4chan's /b/ a lot, lately...it's always interesting to see what people will think, and say, in a situation with no consequences or anything to stop them....normally, it's stuff like shitting d**k nipples (yes, that is a real thing, Google it...or better yet, don't) but occasionally it's pure genius, or hilarity, or genuine insight if someone asks a question, or for advice.
This was my face the first time I saw 4chan:
And lo, there were words......
My musings, random insanity, and tidbits of nonsense, and sense...And every time someone reads one of my entries and doesn't leave a comment, THE TERRORISTS WIN.