Life in the Void.


January 21, 2022 by sandwichcontrol

Life as the Noid.

Remember that dude?

The 1900s got really weird at the end.

Today’s theme is: Deer.



Sir Chester Buttingsworth is still kicking it.

He’s being moved into the living room again.

Him and all his woodland friends.

I’m thinking I might paint his antlers gold.

Hell, I might paint my antlers gold.

Hopefully after today, or this weekend, the year will finally click into gear and get a move on.

I think I’m going to spend the day really cranking on The Stand.

I’m in the final stretch and shit is starting to get ready to explode.

Also, my neurologist is an asshole.

Not even the endearing kind.

So I’m out of my prescription and he won’t refill it because I messaged him three months ago telling him that I didn’t care for the medication and would prefer to not take it anymore.

But he never fucking responded to that message.

So I kept taking the medicine.

Until it ran out.

And then the motherfucker just declines my refill request.

I want to punch him.

With a 1985 Buick Skylark.


So I’m off to headache town on the Cold Turkey Express.

Choo choo!


I’m requesting a new neurologist.

One that won’t try to explain to me that I’m having headaches.

Yeah, no shit.

I’m coming to see you because I’m having headaches.

Literally why I am here.

You don’t need to make that clear to me.

I already know.


On the silver lining note, no more cotton mouth.


If only that happened before the headaches came back.

Whomp whomp.

I smell bad.

I’m gonna go take a shower.

See ya’ tomorrow.

More soon. ~SC


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