So once upon a day(yesterday, or the fifth of may) me and abe got swine flu. Yea turns out in abe and mine’s three or so month absence (I mean who can remember after the shit that happened during that freakish and hallucination filled time). But apparently we got into licking live pigs. Theres lots and lots of polaroids. And indeed some of them have photos of us licking live pigs. So we were really sick, i mean we vomited and shaked and were freezing cold but really really hot at the same time. My body was weak and abe was ozzing that green shit again. I hate that fucking turtle. Even when i am too weak to talk. I hate him with every ounce that i can. I hoped that he would die first, so i could watch him twitch and kick before he spat and shat out his insides, and i could laugh at him. I ate some soup and even slip a little to abe, because i was too afraid of his twisting and growing figure. I thought for sure we were near the end. We crawled into a huddled mass on the floor of the kitchen, under a massive pile of blankets. We layed in a sweaty mess waiting to die. But we woke up in the morning, felt much better (but less good about laying in the way we were) and went to work. So yea, me and abe are real sorry if you die from sf. It was not intentional. Merely the work of some fetish infested fantasy world created by deep, dark dillusions, only attainable at the edges, where sadly me and abe trekked for too many days and nights to recount.