Not a stew recipe

I wasn’t planning to write a thing tonight. I was planning to write a thing Sunday or Monday. But when that didn’t happen, I got in a whole ass mood about it and thought, fuck it. I do what I want. It’s part of my charm. But this is just gonna be stream of conscious or sort of conscious.

I’ve spent the week playing with sentences. Edits. Moving commas. Whatever. I wake up and walk Woody. Then I put Loudermilk on and open the laptop and there’s where I stopped last night. I move commas and add sentences. Try to make it clearer, funnier, not complete shit. Then I feed Woody and walk Woody. And I do it again until around now, ten something. When I try to watch something to shut off the hum.

Let’s add a paywall. Cool.