Neanderpundit

collar turned against the malodorous sleet pounding down from greasy skies, I watch as the clouds scrape the last vestiges of hope from the atmosphere. The pale fungus of Yuggoth slumbered beneath the snow, and foetid wisps of steam drift lazily down from high smokestacks of the abbatoir of Hatheg Kla, where disembodied knife wielding arms slaughter night-gaunts whose oily hams and chops and loin feed the ravenous armies of zooks

Despair ruled over the land, a despair with a foundation as deep as the roots of Unknown Kadath. The Mad Arab Abdul Alhazred giggled with glee from the abyss when Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos, listened to the eldrich tones of his strange instruments of glass and metal, and wept in fear of the coming emptiness.

Nah, I just got off work in Pontiac.

un-buggering a chip conveyor on a geriatric machine.

Consequently I ended my day feeling like Spiny Norman. I managed to soak a lot of the little slivers out, but this morning I’m still picking crap out of my hands and arms. There was a sizable rust spot in the bottom of the tub this morning.

I caught a great deal of flack for doing this rather unpleseant job myself, rather than delegating it to someone else, but I never send a man to do a job i won’t do myself. That kind of behavior is the exclusive property of assholes, and while I’m an asshole without question, I’ll never be that kind.