Having spent all of yesterday and today laying prostrate on the floor of my hovel curled in the fetal position, sobbing, and stuttering madly in stupefaction at the profundity of my recent discovery, I am incapable of penning an entry today.
Concerns about my welfare are appreciated. Token offerings of cupcakes can be pressed into puck form and shuffled under my front door. Chocolate is best.
I apologize for disappointing your fledgling optimism in this blog and beg your future patronage when I return with regular updates on Monday.
Cheers,
The Clog
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