Is it sad...
That I drank another half bottle of whiskey in thirty minutes after having taken pretty-good-but-not-great-uppers all day and am anxiously awaiting a reply to a piece of fanmail that I sent--which I hope actually sent because you can never be too sure with fanmail and because I would not be able to begin to remember what I said in it--because I am so GOD damn excited about a project and I just want to contribute as much as possible and watch it run for a few months so I can learn the inner workings and start my own and expand the area of influence I and many other Tumblr writers have, making this already stellar community even larger, creating something that will last, THAT WILL LAST for ages; because, as we all know (or I should hope we all know by now) that once something is on the internet, it never goes away, it is always there, someone will always find it--which is also the reason I have never done one of those Topless Tuesday things guys like to do where they rub their penis for a bit until they're nice and stiff and take a picture of it, put it in Photoshop, *enlarge* a bit, and then post it on Tumblr with a post saying "yeah, it's only fourteen inches" (unless you're amityanomaly or sendingicebergs, because I'm pretty sure their cocks really are that big [no, you two may not reply to this post with dick pics, I have seen enough of your collective penises to last me a lifetime (no really, they have huge cocks, ladies and so-inclined gentlemen, I am not shitting you)])--and then you'll be embarrassed for the rest of your life.
Unless you're one of those truly big-dicked motherfuckers.
The point of this post was this: Jen, did you get that fanmail I sent because I was out of messages or what?