I'm going to make you want it like tantric sex...

Watch me make you want my skills with da keyboard.

"When I woke up it was one thirty two.

I collapsed back onto my pillow, the light coming through my curtains just so, in that somnolent, pacifying way that makes you want to just lie there forever and be content and warm and stagnant. But I'm a punk, so that's definitely not happening. I threw the covers aside, and blinked four times.

Then once more, for good measure.

Shaking the clouds of sleep from my mind, or attempting to as best I could, considering that my mind was sleep-clouded, and failing, I decided to sit there for a little longer. To pass the time, I picked the little bits of dried mucus that accumulate around my eyes during the night. There's little more satisfying to me than feeling that little tiny speck of hardened snot, which my mom used to call sleepy dust, in your fingers, rolling it between thumb and forefinger and then flicking it away to the floor, where it ceases to exist. Because of this, clearing the sleepy dust from my eyes is something I relish, and I was quite content to sit there for a few seconds, rolling specks of hardened snot between my thumbs and forefingers and summarily flicking them into the void that is anything further than a few inches from my face.

I blinked again.

I checked the clock.

One thirty three.

Giving my head a good shake in a futile attempt to rehabilitate my hair, I lurched forward off the bed, catching myself on the half-opened door of my room, and successfully not falling down again.

A step forward from yesterday's debacle of a waking up.

Scratching my head and sending millions of dead skin cells floating to the ground like a macabre and unhygienic snowfall, I yawned conclusively and stumbled into the hallway outside my room.

The inside front door was open, and light poured into the hallway through the large glass panel that made up most of the outer front door. I squinted for effect and sloped off down the house towards the kitchen.

Manic was in the kitchen.

Asleep, as usual, at this time of day.

An explanation is required, no doubt, being that not everyone has a sleeping Manic in his kitchen at this time of day.

That being said, here's your explanation:"

Except you don't get the explanation because I'm so cruel and cold you put a coat on, to quote MC Frontalot.

So you'll have to beg my ass for it.

I > you.

That having been said, Kerry Edwards 04, and elections are not for the faint of heart.

<3 you all.

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