FIFY
Yeah, if you want to pay me, you can pay me through The Trust. That's fine. I think. I actually don't know. I'm not that kind of lawyer, I'm not a lawyer at all, I just can just read just instructions.
It's a handy skill—especially these days. I don't have access to a number of documents that I need, and so my taxes will remain unfiled for yet another year, which is fine: believe me, I paid
in advance.
By the way, if any of you out there want one of these things—doesn't it sound nice?—and you have parents with more resources than debts and no siblings, children, or other worthless reprobates that you might legitimately
need to share support with, and you have a global crime syndicate that's been following up on your every move for the last 25 years... you might enjoy getting yourself a Special Needs Trust, too. Honestly, I didn't know what the big deal was at first, but I did wish to respect my mother's wishes and—boy howdy—that has fucking
definitely fucking
happened.
No. But you have us collectively bear your insufferable, incessant, overbearing snark.
I am willing to negotiate on these points, as well as many others. No joke. I in fact had thought about over the weekend doing a whole shitload of awesome fucking snarky content and decided instead to be patient and reasonable and not post all of my messages to you in a video with pictures of children running through fields of daisies play as a backdrop. Honestly, I thought it would be really aesthetically pleasing, but I
kinda get the feeling that some people are really upset about something. I don't know what, frankly, because I'm aware of eight or nine different completely awesome things that are going on right, right about now... and I doubt that anyone else knows about them all. (Compartmentalization is like that. F***.) Taken as a whole, most things involving me are fine, but nobody gets to take me whole anymore. Ho ho ho. I'm
literally still carrying around Christmas gifts. Maybe I should hold a raffle, or a bingo tournament, or a dry t-shirt contest. We might have to wait another 90 days to get that one going though.
Stop the bacchanal. I wanna get off!
Yeah, well: Pillhound gets what Pillhound wants. As you recall, I
forewarned you all–you were
all forewarned–
months ago that this Fallout was going to spread inexorably. And, it has. I can't stop it. I won't stop it. Are you kidding me?
SHOVING 10,000 MARBLES UP MY ASS WAS THE BEST IDEA I'VE EVER HAD IN MY ENTIRE LIFE HUAGUAFHUHGAHGHUGDA
