I’m going to pop some tags
I got twenty dollars in my pocket
Lonely days are gone
I’m a comin’ home
My baby wrote me a letter

So my sane living environment of the last 2.7 years or so goes poof at the end of May or June. I am hoping for something a little better than the silver-plattered bullshit I was served before this most recent stable patch came along. If you know of some shared living arrangement in the bay area that is not a beige-carpeted flood dungeon, drop me a line. I’d love to just rent some goddamn warehouse space that has an unfinished bathroom and room for a hotplate so I can build my own freak-ass custom living space, but you play the caste you’re served/semi-chose. And now, 723 photos of Mittens really going to town on a ball of yarn.