EVEN NEAR TO DEATH, ONE MORE SHOT OF RECREATIONAL POISON AWAY FROM BECOMING A LIQUOR-LOGGED HUSK, I CANNOT WREST MY THROBBING THINKPAN AWAY FROM CONSCIOUSNESS.
NEED. TO. RELAX.
TEREZI, I'M GOING TO RENAME MY TROLL ALEXA AFTER YOU. FOR ALL THE REMINDERS YOU PROVIDE ME AT ABSURD HOURS OF THE DIURNAL CYCLE TO REHYDRATE. YOU'RE MY FUCKING LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEM.
YEAH. BY THE TIME I ACTUALLY NEEDED IT, I WAS WAKING UP ON THE BEACH WITH A MOUTHFUL OF SAND. AT THAT POINT, STICK A FUCKING MOP BETWEEN MY MANDIBLES AND SCRUB LIKE YOU'RE TRYING TO STAB IT THROUGH MY NECK.