I'm never against a healthy dose of murder. After all, what else are you going to do if somebody looks at you kinda funny?
Perhaps fortunately for the world, Sam has threatened to move out of our apartment if I buy a gun... and I need that rent check of his. No biggie. Fortunately, in our violent world, there's plenty of other ways to satisfy my bloodlust.
Remeber that mouse I mentioned? The "probability wave" collapsed. It's toast. For the non-squeamish, I include pictures below the fold. And for the rest of 'ya... STAY OUTTA MY HOUSE.
Damn these stupid Macs. Not Carlsons, not those bad apples. The bad Apples with the non-clicky keyboards that don't require actual depression of said keys to complete an action.
Anway, what was I saying? Right, G, come to the Ill. You can shoot my weapons. What kind of Jersey girl would I be without a full-on armory in my apartment?
