Ebon Flow...

The ebb and flow of it all, what does it all mean? My mood, and those things around me that bring me up, also leave me dashed upon the rocks.
I still have three, possibly four, days of work left this week. It is always tough to be there, because I really don't like to talk to people in the real world, and I don't like to be touched by them. Or probed in any way. I can be extremely vague when I want to be. Leaves room for loopholes, you see...
Piercings, within the realm of law, yet ringing the nipple, errr..... I mean star that is pure, unadulterated goodness like a rogue planet of vigilanteism and doom to the evil naysayers perched on my haunched visage. WTF?
I was forced to watch Jeff Dunham today on TV, and that guy is not funny, and puppets aren't funny, and you know what?
I could see his lips move.
Like today's picture? It's almost like Condy could be a superheroine if'n she wanted to. Her show would be on BET, probably give her a name like Ebon Flow, Mistress of the Menstrual Cycle.
It's 10:20pm and I have to be up at 5am so I hear that whistle blowing last call. All aboard on the last train to Sleepies' House.
Woot wooooooooooot.