Day 22…the end is near my friend. I anxiously dream of the days when this threat will leave me be. For some Freedom…some faith…a father figure…maybe it’s just that I want your sex. As long as I have everything she wants…and there’s no carless whisper…you can just wake me up before you go…go…wait a minute. Aw MAN! They got to me. Like an aggressive strain of herpes, they are popping up all over my body. That…is…gross. I can smell the end. I can see life after Whammageddon. When it’s just the normal, every day, crap-heap and not this 80’s brit-pop version of butthole. Soon…soon.
Stay close, my friend. I’ll keep you posted with my…CHRONICLES OF WHAMMAGEDDON