For lack of a better title

It's 12 o'clock. At night.

I'm not dead. Much.

Fuck.

Things have been happening, the sun continues to rise--but don't hold me to that--and I have been thinking a lot.

I have an idea, and it's going to start tomorrow.

The trolls should have moved on by now, but if not, fuck 'em.

Rory runs amok, again.