"Coffee . . . ? Coffee . . . ? Coffee . . . ? Coffee . . . ?"

Last night's tweets;

Don't know what my headaches want anymore.
I try apples, tea, coffee, and spinach.
I shall try getting to sleep before four.
Switching to rum and the craft of the witch.

Anyone know where I can get low sodium canned spinach? I'm so tired of salt.

I seem to have accumulated a large number of bot followers on Twitter. A lot of them have names that end with a year that would make them between twenty-five and thirty years old and have only one tweet, something about NSFW photos they've uploaded of themselves. They don't seem to ensnare any followers--spamming is a mysterious species of obnoxious to me.

I don't have much to say about yesterday. I drew, inked, and coloured a page, finishing abnormally quickly. Then I worked on a new project which, when taken with all the other things I'm doing, won't see any real progress for months so it's probably best not to talk about it yet. I played World of Warcraft for about an hour, reaching the esteemed position of level eight. I probably would've reached it sooner except I got trapped in the ocean a couple nights ago. Truly, the great lung capacity of the undead is a mixed blessing.

I didn't get to sleep before four, but I did get to sleep before six. Which is something, as much as anything is anything. The rum was like water for all the effect it had on me--I was drinking Malibu cocoanut rum, which is only 42 proof, but it's tasty. It takes me back to playing Knights of the Old Republic and went well with World of Warcraft. I hearby confer upon Malibu rum the title of Best Video Game Companion Booze.