Yo!

What's up? Is your girl, DJ Narke? What's going on?

It just started raining lightly. It's about 5 a.m.

And, uh, well, I've been using up my capacity to articulate how I feel or what I think, doing all sorts of stuff, which we can talk about later.

And I find myself when it's time to do the podcast to not be quite as sharp as I would like

as someone who cannot stand listening to anything that doesn't have a point.

I can be pretty rigorous in how I approach editing and looking at my own work.

So, yeah, I've tried to do this a couple of times.

I actually made the mistake of naming the last attempt. Tell me in your real voice. And then I spent

about a half an hour ranting about how Pam was awful. And I thought I was being really smart

because I used a Bluetooth speaker, a small one.

Which, you know, I'd also been told the London Satsung was a better idea than having a phone mic.

So, okay.

And so I played back, tell me in your real voice, and it was a fucking robot voice.

The way the speaker was like pressing my voice, you know, it made me sound like a malfunctioning

robot, a short-circuiting robot, actually, which is bizarre to me,

because just earlier that same day, I'd had a conversation about how somebody shot an arrow at my robot and killed it.

And I guess that little rant about Jim and Pam was my robot's last attempt at being cynical about love.

Ha ha ha ha ha. being cynical about love. Oh, really?

Yeah.

What?

Um,

...