GETTING OMEGA ON NYC’S ASS
And so I take my leave of OL for the day. Momentarily I shall be boarding a bus to New Jack City to see one of my fave bands in some sort of 20th anniversary show. I leave behind many a wonderful things, but more than most, Omega Level. Being an unemployed graduate student, I have far too much time on my hands for blogging and the such.
Instead, of you know, doing actual school work.
It is with tear-stuffed eye-sockets that I take my leave of OL. Like a neurotic parent I have already discussed my absence with Pepsibones.
Ian: Can you please, please post something.
Pepsibones: We’ll see, I may have something.
Ian: No please, can you just update something?
Pepsibones: Mischevious smile
It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, that’s half our conversations go. I plead with Pepsibones for something, he smiles and quasi-commits before disapparating into the miasma.
There’s a certain anxiety that comes from not posting and keeping connected to OL. Since, you know, if you don’t post content, people don’t keep comin’ to this joint for the find introspective witticisms. Or the mentions of cocks and dong-rubbing. Both I mean, aren’t those the same thing?
The anxiety is, of course, compounded by the fact that I’m a nervous wreck, and a perpetual worry machine. I’m the definition of a homebody, and whenever I’m asked to leave the Dungeon of Horrors and Polygons, I hyper-ventilate. I told my girlfriend OMFG I WILL MISS YOU, and she’s all like “You’re leaving for a day, pfft”, which, of course, in the mind of a worry-wart only exacerbates the anxiety.
But I’ll see you fucks tomorrow evening. Be well, make good life choices!
There’s cookies in the cabinet and pizza money on the table!