Well, okay, terrific. I’ve woken at quarter-to-two in the morning plagued by the sensation that the muscles and joints in my limbs require the intense stretching of being tortured on a rack, and in the absence of such I’m unable to return to sleep.
Bix dot Blog
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.