I’m still pooping.

It’s still water.

I thought the Purg-o-dan should be done by now.

It’s what they claim on the package, and online.

Why the fuck am I still filled with wet diarrhea, forty-eight hours hence?

Damn you, Purg-o-dan.

Target: 1700 words
Written: 1866 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Proof Of Conspiracy, Seth Abramson
Comics: Spider-Island: Cloak And Dagger 3, Cloak And Dagger v4 1-3 (fuck sakes, I hate when writers take on their supposed 'white whale', but then demonstrate they don't even understand the basics of the characters, how their powers work, whether one has a corporeal body and then, of course, let's fucking make them hate each other over petty shit, thereby ruining the entire premise of their complicated relationship.  I'd heard Dennis Hopeless was a good writer; apparently, I was mistaken.  He's a hack who couldn't be bothered to do even a modicum of research to understand the characters he's been given to write, and for fuck sakes, it's not like they have a thousand issues of history to go through - a dedicated writer would have plowed through them in a day or two.  How disappointing.)
Music: He's The DJ, I'm The Rapper, DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince (uh, anyone else ever relisten to this and think, wow, those are some seriously questionable lyrics in Parents Just Don't Understand)