I am so confused. I hate it when I have to actually think, and I'll probably have to shave tomorrow too, life sucks and then you die, and when I die I think I'll have myself freeze dried in a sitting position and hunkered down in front of my computer, but it could be worse, I could be something something something.
And fuck Woody Woodpecker, and Walter Lantz, and Chuck Jones, and the Fleischer brothers, and the toons they rode in on.
I feel so humbled, goodnight.