So I went on vacation

The thing about vacations is that they are a terrible idea. Truly, my friends, it should not be attempted. I decided to go, because my grandmothers health is not so good so I decided to visit her. For some reason, she decided to live by the ocean. Personally I don't see the appeal. It's dry, dusty and orange. Orange of all colors! Anyway, I went to visit her and though the scenery was lacking, my visit with my grandmother was quite delightful. We went werewolf hunting, sacrificed some goats, stole a few souls. She even made a fresh batch of watermelon kiwi tacos. It was amazing. And as we all do after visiting the elderly, when it was time to go I fed her into the deep vortex of space. Though I still detest vacations, I can't wait to see my grandmother again when she gets back. 
                      Sincerely,
                          Your supreme overlord

Radio show

So I've been listening to this  radio show, called Welcome to Nightvale. I'm not sure if this Nightvale place is a real town. Seems a little far fetched. I mean, first of all, who uses blood stone circles anymore? Those are so last century. Second, forbidden dog park? Everyone knows there are no such thing as dogs, let alone a park to take them to, forbidden or otherwise. Also voting. Now this one I have a serious issue with. There was an entire show about a mayoral campaign, and how you need to vote for the right one or never see your loved one again. My sweet subjects, let me put your minds at ease. Democracy, is nothing more then a myth, created to scare you out of your safe cookie cutter ways. You do not need to worry about voting, or democracy, or thought. I will think for you. So do not fear. Do not worry about the outside world, or your place in it. Do not worry about the strange place called Nightvale or its unusual radio host. Just be happy in your ignorant bliss.

                                                                 -Sincerely,
                                                                         Your Supreme Overlord

Today I found an old photo of my self. It made me sad for "the good old days" as they say. You know, the days where you could perform a casting ceremony, then get burned at the stake after. If I could cry sentimental tears, or any tears at all, I would cry them bitterly. These days, people are less disturbed by witchcraft. I mean there is still a good level of disturbing, just less. Anyway, I was very impressed with my photo. I was so young and vibrant. Once upon a time. At that time in my life I was only a humble sales associate at the department store. Unfortunately I still will not name it for your own safety.  But my manager, was a very talented hypnotist. He once convince the entire staff to throw chickens at pedestrians.  Good times. I would post a picture of him, but he recently got extensive plastic surgery before faking his death, then burned all his childhood photos. But here's my photo. Now please be gracious, I was 300 years younger, so I look much different.  
                        
                                Sincerely, 
                                          Your supreme overlord 

Weird at last, Weird at last

Some people, and you know who you are, like to pretend that they are not weird. I don't mean weird like, eating people weird, cause thats a whole other level of weird that I refuse to go into. I meant more of a, lick rain off the pavement or feeding frogs to sheep weird. To deny ones weirdness is to deny ones self. For example, last week I was at work on the early morning shift at the department store that, for your own safety, will remain nameless. Anyway, as I was working, Arnold, my best work friend, came in wearing less makeup then was usual for her. When I asked, she told me that a customer had made fun of her for lathering so much on, after which she burst into tear, making her new dress all soggy. I assured her that she looked beautiful with or with out the make up, and even if she didn't, what business was it of theirs? Apparently my words did the trick because the next day, Arnold was back to all her bearded glory. My point is that you should not try to hide the true psychopath we all know you are inside. Because if you do, we will have to extract it from you, through a series of long, painful procedures. So readers, remember, be yourself, or suffer the consequences. 
           
                             Sincerely, 
                                       Your supreme Overlord