Must Be Shared

Johnny Knoxville's Letters to His Brother.

No Excuse

My bite has been adjusted and still feels funny. Individual teeth still feel a bit odd where bits of them were ground away, too. That doesn't explain why I'm up so late though. Neither does the raccoon I heard climbing the mulberry tree in the dark a while ago. Not even the time I spent looking at this (oh nostalgia) explains it. In fact, I have no excuse. I could have gone to sleep ages ago, but didn't. What is to become of me? Time is all unraveled. The cat was playing with it. I'm the cat.