I Am Jack's Raging Bile Duct

Man, I'm ill. Was in bed all day long and still feel sick like [insert a non-clichéd word here]. I had to pass the opportunity to have a drink with two lady friends of mine today, because I couldn't even walk to the store right behind our house, not to mention the pub where I was invited. Life has a bad sense of humour, so I'm going to use good satire as a shield against it. Here's a quote from Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club. You know, just to post something here that's actually worth reading:

I've met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, "Why?"

Why did I cause so much pain? Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness? Can't I see how we're all manifestations of love?

I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong.

We are not special.

We are not crap or trash, either.

We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens.

And God says, "No, that's not right."

Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can't teach God anything.

Good book. Great movie.

Take care, my friend.