Mike Burr - log

[Charlemagne] I was FAKING IT the whole time!

You should know, the very last time we spoke, I shared with you an idea I had (a stupid just-for-fun invention). Of course you responed enthusiastically with "oh yeah, I would do this, and I would do that, and you should put in a smoke shifter here, and maybe this idea that I have would improve it some. now this is the kind of thing I can get behind!"

Well, who looks like the fucking retard there, I ask you.

When I sent that to you I was in the midst of a dopamine stooper: oh, father is speaking to me! I wonder if we could "collaborate" on a thing to heal our relationship!! I just know he'll love the idea.

Yes, it's true, stroking your ego makes you feel good and temporarily puts you in a good mood. Like soothing your angry chimp husband with sex. It works, who cares about my vaginal area! That's where my shame lives!

Every activity ever needs you at its center, because you crave ...something. You crave that something because you're deeply scared at your core. Of what? Who knows. Shame? Exposure? Criticism? Damnation?

Outside of that, we're gunna talk about airplains and librils and quantum mechanics for some reason. What you think about that, California boy?

That's your problem.