![One fog-choked morning, on my way to get groceries, a cold wiggled passed the gauntlet of my immune system and replaced my head with a sandbag. I arrived home, put down the onions I had purchased, and I took a Sleeping-Beauty nap that somehow stretched out over five months. Everyone banged on my door and filled my phone with histrionic messages, demanding confirmation of my safety. No one got through my dreamless slumber. Not my landlord, not my parents, not my parole officer, nobody. A rich rind of thorned vines crept around my house and squeezed, blocking out sunshine completely. It ensnared both songbirds and song. One day, after every other person had either forgotten about me or given up, my girlfriend procured a machete from the Internet, supposedly forged by Orcs from stainless steel and dragon spit. She spent the better part of a week hacking through the integument of dangerous creeper, avoiding allergy, injury, and worse. After countless labored hacks and slashes, she wiggled through my bedroom window and planted a sloppy wet one on my dusty crotch. I instantly awoke, hungrier than a Rwandan. I realized that, among other things, I had missed almost half a year of life, blogging, candy consumption, and this musical performance.
[caught it here.]](http://10.media.tumblr.com/azxD5kcjli8ovpq9yTvQiRKUo1_400.jpg)
One fog-choked morning, on my way to get groceries, a cold wiggled passed the gauntlet of my immune system and replaced my head with a sandbag. I arrived home, put down the onions I had purchased, and I took a Sleeping-Beauty nap that somehow stretched out over five months. Everyone banged on my door and filled my phone with histrionic messages, demanding confirmation of my safety. No one got through my dreamless slumber. Not my landlord, not my parents, not my parole officer, nobody. A rich rind of thorned vines crept around my house and squeezed, blocking out sunshine completely. It ensnared both songbirds and song. One day, after every other person had either forgotten about me or given up, my girlfriend procured a machete from the Internet, supposedly forged by Orcs from stainless steel and dragon spit. She spent the better part of a week hacking through the integument of dangerous creeper, avoiding allergy, injury, and worse. After countless labored hacks and slashes, she wiggled through my bedroom window and planted a sloppy wet one on my dusty crotch. I instantly awoke, hungrier than a Rwandan. I realized that, among other things, I had missed almost half a year of life, blogging, candy consumption, and this musical performance.
[caught it here.]
