My coworker gave me a blue marker the other day, as we were discussing something else that had to do with houses. For some reason I scrawled HOUSE on the wall (this was in a back area where no one cares,) with the blue marker.

The following week I walked past the blue house and was overcome with the realization of what I had done.

I read the book once years ago, I don’t think any other work of art has the ability to change the readers psychology. I often have dreams about wandering empty endless houses.

Also one foot note cites my hometown which is a place few people outside the state even know about.

Coward.

Oh man, wait until you learn about the guy who hung the Nazis.

John C. Woods https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_C._Woods?wprov=sfla1

My favorite detail is how, either through incompetence or malice, John didn’t make the hole in the gallows big enough. As a result each Nazi that made the plunge smashed his face on the way down.

Warms my heart.

And of course a link to my favorite podcast I am duty bound to shill for. https://www.iheart.com/podcast/105-behind-the-bastards-29236323/episode/the-bastard-who-executed-the-55213274/

The train doesn’t exist, therefore it can’t be late when it’ll never be there.

With his bare fucking hands, apparently.

EDIT: Not to be confused with his bear fucking hands.

On the plus side the train is never late.

You had better not shit me.

Seems to me like they’ve just upped the price $10 with each successive generation of consoles.

I enjoy this idea immensely.

You got a laugh outta me, but damn, maybe you should go to therapy Gary.