Day No. 77: Of titans and kazak, foresight.

Today or should I say is a pencil shooting through the history book. The prison bought $600,000 worth of cashewnuts. Really, it's good for us, but I thought I've seen those nuts somewhere. I looked into my pants. Still there. I stop eating nuts. I'm not rich in fats.

Perhaps life is being qwerty, or is it a word. It never strains one so it is balanced. But look at those people who are so dedicated. They excel unimaginably in things trivial, everything else takes a backseat. Yes you too, spiderwoman. Maybe we use qwerty too much. Balance to the force. I wash my hair everyday, I brush my teeth, I eat 3 meals, it's scary.

I try to vertical park my bed, it's so easy. Perhaps it's easier to do at night.

Bilko wouldn't commit. I throw the dice and think that I'll throw 7. I haven't let go. It'll be 7, I hope. The dice is red. I have a hot hand, I cannot miss. Rumsfoord might second that.

I haven't run. But underneath the rot is going away. I touch my hair growth. I don't run but my hair grows, what a joke.

Don't let your shoulders bend underneath this burden, cos my shoulders are sturdy and strong, so trouble me. But I see nobody in the cell but my shadow.