wage labotomy

this story has ended. I got a job.

The gang won't make it to Mary and her gang in time to catch Bigfoot and get the secret serum, which was song lyrics.

The band won't play the first last song of the world, a song lasting forever, taking over a small venue near San Onofre where there's free power.

The world won't converge on california, everyone with an instrument, as we play our way out of suffering, a transcendence.

Nope. I've landed a job at a nursery here in town, not the Green Thumb, more like some major full-time scale thing, the work is brutal.

Bye folks.

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