Ego Problimbzzzzz

Real jobs gross me out lately.
I dealt with a real-ish one for a year and a half or so.
Made me entirely nocturnal and resentful of rich kids. people. whatever.
Also stole a decent chunk of my sanity by way of sleep deprivation.
The good thing, I guess; was that I had money.
I don't really have any right now.
Money affords a certain fuzzy outlook, which can be quite comforting when one is intrinsically floppy.
I have a couple of parking tickets and a massive utility bill that I'm prolly gonna have to sell my eggs for...If they don't incubate into hydrocephalic tubercular mutants that need to be kept in water in order to breathe, that is. Can "they" test for that?
Tomorrow night, I'll be bellydancing and clowning around at The Edison Lounge, downtown, with the circus kids. It's a "steampunk" theme, so I guess that means wearing goggles on your top hat? The Nautilus Ball it's called. The Edison is retardo gorgeous. It looks like the loft of your most creative friend, if they had carte blanche on furnishing it at a really great salvage yard. Full of glass insulator and old squirrel filament lightbulb chandeliers, cogs, gears, rust, polished concrete, outsized leather furniture, fire escapes, projectors screening Dr. Caligari, Nosferatu etc., and big oven-y generator thingamajiggers.
Exceptional fucking venue.
I've been puzzling out music for my two sets all day, along with stitching up a real purty new belt, putting things up on my Etsy shop, as well as trying to convince my house to let me go outside for awhile to run some errands for shit I can't really afford. TP, tampons, etc. It's gettin pretty real around here.
Luckily, I've got my gig tomorrow night, plus another thing up north which should keep me busy for a coupla weeks at the least, bringing me home slightly more moneyed, if not closer to paying february rent.

Wish me luck, as I'll need it until artificial means of ego support are made available.

My Most Favoritest News Story, Possibly EVER.

So, if you click the picture at zee left there, it will take you to the ultimate evidence that germans are; in fact, weird. 

They are, you know.

It is a bold claim, yes; but perfectly substantiated. 

Butt Piss.

There's your answer. Don't ask me again.