Ever wake up waaayyy before you're ready to start your day, because a) you're so hard, it physically hurts and b) your bladder is about to explode? I got up, opened the back door in our kitchen and pissed all over the patio like an absolute animal, and I wish I had the words to adequately describe the sheer fun and sensation of it all.

I work in the game industry on occasion and write stuff for RPGs, which is why my dialogue is often more like a video game than, I dunno, smut. One of my friends, who wrote for a massive, really popular cRPG was hired because of his smut. Wish I had more work. I miss food.

Look, I'm really flattered that some of you recognise me based on such a small amount of uploads and after years of absence, and I'm even more flattered that you care about my old stuff so much that you want it back. Thing is, I no longer have any of it. It's all gone. To be frank, I also just don't really care too much about these stories. I let them out to process them, to bring them to life for a little while, then they're done, they're told, they're no longer on my mind. I know this is a dumb way to look at it, but at the same time, it's not like I create some kind of art that deserves to be preserved in some way.

Also, please understand I've closed my inbox. I feel extremely weird about getting contacted by complete strangers, who reach out, because they love to jerk off to some stuff I write. No disrespect, I'm not trying to be an ass or anything like that. It's just that I'm autistic AF, I struggle with the most basic of social interactions, and having to interact with people on the basis of, well, masturbation ... it's me, not you. Don't feel bad. I'm feeling bad enough for both of us, trust me.