The unsupported use case of Bix Frankonis’ disordered, surplus, mediocre midlife in St. Johns, Oregon.
No fear, no hate, no thoughtless bullshit, and no nazis.
Read the current manifesto. (And the followup.)
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Recall how I postponed lymph biopsy surgery so it didn’t land during the psychic tripwire of my fiftieth birthmonth? Just days before the birthday, I’ve apparently broken my foot, and atop my fatigue issues this means the week now, irretrievably, is garbage.