Need

Has it really been a week? Finally, I have some time to do what I enjoy most: writing for Psychedelic Gakdugi. My schedule has recently been altered in such a way that, unfortunately, I have little time in the evening to practice my unique brand of literary onanism, and for that I am quite regretful. For me, nothing beats having a cool beer (or twelve) while smoking half a pack of cigarettes and sharing my inane thoughts with the world via these here Internets, so believe me, Constant Retard, when I say that I have missed you greatly. Each day that Psychedelic Danmuji isn't updated is a day I dread*, and I know the feeling is mutual on your part, Constant Retread. This hallowed blog is my passion, but sometimes life gets in the way, you know? Often, when I'm in a slump or otherwise indisposed, I have my faithful compadre Kmart to fill in the blanks, but that worthy is back in his home state of Nebraska recovering from Japanese encephalitis. Sucks, right?

Fortunately, this week sees the return of the aforementioned prodigal son to these peninsular shores, hopefully with loads of cheese-flavored snackfoods in tow. Also, on Wednesday, this writer's kid sister, Madeline, will return to the land of the morning coma for what I believe is her second sojuourn. It's all going to be real, and my only hope is that work and sleep don't get in the way.

As far as Psychedelic Jimbrowski is concerned, however, I fear my own "return" might be short-lived. I have a wedding to attend on the 27th, you see, and my role in said wedding is considerably important. Essential, even. And so it is that, with a heavy heart, I must admit that I may not be able to continue my psychedelic communicade until after a fortnight.

But please know that, during the time I'm away, nothing will be more on my mind than the thoughts of my readership. No emotion is as profound as that of longing, and my ardent wish is that, instead of dejectedly moping around while I spend time away from my extended Internet family, you, Constant Reanimator, carpe every damn diem that I am gone, following your (sound, ethical) instincts and urges, scratching every itch on the back that is your lives. For we were made for greatness, and greatness is just a touch away.

I'll be back before you even know I'm gone, Paul. And upon our reunion there will be great stories to tell, epic anecdotes concerning the wondrous ways of the universe.

Now: Scribblenauts!

* Similarly, I die a little bit each morning that I awake to discover Time Travel for Beginners hasn't been updated.