Okay, so my writer is on weed or something, because she can never write for me. I feel like a robot walking around with the self destruct button on his back poking out for the world to press. So bad. But hey, at least she cares enough about me to give me a life. That, I have. And I have Terran *cuddles with a teddy bear and fawns* Okay...maybe I don't have Terran, but one day, I will...or not. PKA is more unpredictable than Brendan Flowers when The Killers broke up. Just...all wrong.