Surprisingly
not much to report this week, dear readers.
I say
surprising because it seems like there is always something going on these days.
And by
these days, of course I mean the past 20 years.
I suppose I
just lead an incredibly interesting life.
Or I make
shit up to fill space.
This week,
I have nothing to make up.
Except that
I successfully faked Casey’s death and we’re going to have to lie to the
dentist on our next visit.
Found a
girl with her height and build, dropped some DNA around the scene and then
flipped a stolen car, burned her body, and waited for the authorities to draw
their own conclusions.
Casey was
happy to lose a tooth. But breaking it meant paying a little extra for repairs
on our visit this weekend.
It was all
worth it to ensure her safety.
So now we’re
free. No one chasing us, no one threatening our lives.
It’s
honestly a little boring.
I need some
action in my life. Something to stress me out and keep things active.
Oh wait, I
remember.
Someone has
my journals and thus all the proof they need to destroy our lives. I’d almost
forgotten about that. Great.
Fuck.
I don’t even
know how to begin tracking them down. Maybe I can’t. I just have to keep
waiting until I’m staring down the barrel of a gun. As long as it’s pointed at
me and not my family, then I’m good with that.
Look at
that, I did find some shit to make up this week. It always manages to work
itself out. Because it has to.
As always,
dear readers,
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