St. Petersburg, Russia
Occasionally a handful of the approximate 100 billion nerve cells still in my possesion will transmit a few, weak synaptic pings. Sometimes this process results in me thinking it wise to embark on six-hour marathons of garbage Netflix fishing shows. Other times a coherent, rogue thought gets begrudgingly churned out of cerebral HQ to be cast into cyberspace. At any rate, I'm not responsible enough to own a dog, so a blog will have to suffice. There, there, sit.