Or so Pilot Boy says.
Its been oddly rainy and gloomy here for the past week or so. More so than usual. I decided to try to begin a new story that has been milling around my noggin for the past couple of days. It is not going too good. I remember now why I don't start new stories that I have been milling in my head: they don't turn out. The best ones are the ones I just kind of sit down and start and don't put a lot of thought into.
In other news, an airplane fell on my head last night.
Granted it was a wooden toy airplane, but it still hurt like my head was going to die and roll off. It hurt more than when I'd crack my head on those stupid trees. I hate those damn trees.
Almost as much as I hate that damn wood airplane made in 1997.
At least the Thai can of coke didn't fall on me. That would have hurt and been a sticky mess.
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