I'm not dead
The Joes just attacked in the middle of my Golden Girls marathon. I started one and made everyone watch along in memory of Bea Arthur. We went on a few dates back in the ’70s. When people you’ve dated start to die of old age, it really makes you think. I mean, I’ve dated some women before and they’re dead but that was my doing. Old age… that ain’t right.
Now the AV equipment is all messed up and the screening room is a mess. I’m covered in blood (not mine) and there’s urine in my pants (mine).
I find myself unable to recall my email password again. I’m having the worst day.
