Staking Out the attic, could be a horror tale in the making..

So, tonight’s the night. I’m staking the attic.
yeah, after a couple of weeks now of listening to something drag itself around up there, something that appears to WALK, I’m going in.

I’m sufficiently amped on one too many amp energy drinks, I’m wearing my camoflage baseball cap, black leotards, hey this may require some weird martial arts moves, and I’m carrying a spray bottle of bleach for its eyes.
If it has eyes.

I’m strung as hell from wrestling with my comp programs for two days in trying to complete a manuscript, and at the moment I am looking like a great before picture for the Betty Ford rehab center. Or is it the Barbara Bush rehab.

I’m not up on my americanisms you know, I’m not even up on my canadianisms. I don’t watch tv, and when you land here on the tarmac, they burst into applause that the plane did indeed make it yet again, and you know you are somewhere..um..different.
Think the movie, The Wicker Man. Original version’s best.

I hear there is the usual uproar here in the virtual blog bog.
I must confess I am too challenged to figure out who’s who in these things.

If I catch it,(the thing in my attic) not whoever is busting everyone for terms of service, I’m gonna stab it.
UHN, UHN, UHN.
Who me?
Living on the edge? frustrated as fuck?

No, I have the whole situation under control. hahahaha.

sigh.