It's hard to get anything done with such a defeatist attitude.
Rewind six months. USS Bozeman. Threes.
My left elbow is more tanned than my right. Both arms are more tanned than my pasty belly.
The coffee and cigarettes diet is finally having me thinner.
One way or any other, I'm going cancerous and immature.
I am definitely lecherous.
(This is the point where I'm supposed to feel terrible about myself, but I don't. I've been in mostly good spirits for a little while now.)