Well Hephestus has gone and gotten me one of these blog doodads. He insists we all transfer our writings to a digital format. He says it'll make searching easier, so that in 300 years when Dionysus and Hermes have a fight about who broke whose 8-track player, we will more easily be able to go back and settle this matter.
Hopefully without it coming to a duel this time. Yes, I am looking at you two. Fucking babies. I am done sewing your hands back on. Next time I'm putting them on backwards. You can get Xipe to undo it. He'll like that.
Still no sign of Artemis. I wonder if she googles herself. Why do I doubt that...
Half of me hopes she is dead. Hope for the rest of us. Or some of us, maybe.
See, Heph? This is why I preferred pen and paper. Well if we're dreaming I still wish tapestry would come back. I had high hopes for this knitting trend, but alas, I don't see it leading that direction. Anyways I didn't have to worry about you all reading about how I wish you were dead. Don't get me wrong, I'm no Apollo about it... but have any of us managed to fall off the radar as long as she has?
...I wonder if she's still a virgin...
and with that my honey wine is wearing off and I shall most likely figure out how to delete this in the morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment