I'm wondering how many of my followers are still kickin' around this site.

I got the random urge to read through my old blogs here. Lemme tell you something:

Don't do that. The sheer amount of cringe I got going through those old posts is unbelievable. There was also nostalgia, but my god I was a whiny shit back in 2014.

Uh... Update time, I guess??

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Warning: Sibling-based drama incoming. Feel free to not read, I just need to rant.

So I live with my mom, for those who don't know. It's more affordable and less lonely. Of course, there are issues that come with that. Namely: I still have to live by my mom's rules. One of these rules is insanely arbitrary, but it's part of the price of living here.

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I dunno how many of you know that I broke my leg roughly a month ago. I posted a blog about it, but it only got like fifteen views.

It was pretty bad. It was my right leg. I snapped my tibia clean off at the bottom, and splintered my fibula a couple inches up from the foot. Nearly dislocated it too. Tore the muscle between the two bones right the fuck apart.

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*two weeks ago*

Me: You know, now that the hospital has taken off my splint and given me this boot, I think I may be able to help bring the groceries into the house; as long as I go slowly and only take two bags a time.

My mom: No way. You still have to walk on crutches until your next surgery, and it would hardly take anything to throw you of balance.

Me: That's a good point.

*today*

My mom: I want you to come repaint the porch.

Me: Title related.

Well, it's not new. It's actually one I've been sitting on for quite a while. But I thought I'd get an opinion on whether or not you guys would read it.

It's a self-insert. Yeah, I know, but there's a twist.

Guys? Help!!

I know I should be working on my existent stories, but I'm working on a procrastination record. Maybe writing something less substantial will get my motor running again. Who knows?

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Getting those plates, pins, and screws put in. Early in the morning, around 7.

Probably gonna be out of it all day because of drugs and pain. Possibly the day after, too.

I'm actually pretty nervous. Wish me luck.

We were doing renovations to the house; replacing an old window. The ladder slipped. Shattered my leg, just above the ankle. Fuckin' hurts, man.

Tibia was pretty clean. Fibula splintered. Doctor said I'll need a screw in the tibia and a plate on the fibula. Probably forever.

My friend's car broke down recently. His girlfriend called me and woke me up.

"Guh... Huh..?"

"Hi. Can I get a ride to work tonight?"

"Uuuuuhh... Ugh. Okay. You go in in a couple hours, that should give me enough sleep to work with."

"Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome. See you then."

"See you."

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I gotta vent right now, someone's pissed me off pretty bad.

So, it started with a forum post. Someone was making absurd blanket statements. Saying that this subject that he knows so much about is always like this, and if you try to say that it's not always like that, then you're wrong.

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Being a nerd is fun, most days. You get to play weird games with your weird friends. When most of your weird friends are married with kids, however, it gets a bit more complicated.

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