Captain's Log: Day 8 Post-BotBall
Today I slept. And slept. And slept.
Visions of Joel Zumaya throwing 300 mph fastballs and Miguel Cabrera winning Gold in the Decathlon filled my mind so vividly that I really enjoyed the more or less wasted day.
I don't know if it was also a dream, but any time I think I woke up I saw the Raccoon wearing a tophat and cloak swinging a pocket watch back and forth chanting oddly familiar sounding yet slightly off vocalizations and I was out again.
Finally getting out of bed without incident around 7pm I checked around my apartment and although nothing was gone, my kindle fire was laying out with “wie man hypnotisiert” entered into a Google search and I did find a receipt to Halloween USA. The most upsetting thing about this is the reminder that it is already somehow late October and also that those weird transient peddlers of wares both macabre and moderqdely erotic that fill in empty lots in strip malls every fall are somehow still in business. That being said in my college days I am sure many an enjoyable party had that store to thank for the, uh, skimpy regalia that adorned the attendees so I likely do owe them some debt of gratitude but let's change the subject before I say something I'll regret.
To those who remember what the reason for that last tangent was let me be clear, I do not claim to have the slightest idea as to the motivating factors that would cause the Raccoon to try to put me into a mesmerized state, and apparently succeed in spades, but I drywall d 8gm we jcwbrjceh dhsjdbrjn dddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd wie du text loschst