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har har har


I could never jump on the personal blogging bandwagon (whether that’s a deep-seated disinterest in the happenings of my own life, a fear of rejection, a fear of perceived narcissism, or a plain lack of stuff to write about is for you to not worry over and for my therapist and I to figure out on an hourly basis) so this isn’t a journal as much as it is a broad-ranging catalog of one man’s daily stimuli.

My name is Karl. I don’t actually see a therapist. I design books for a living and I hope I never have to learn another job.

Raised in Nebraska, now in New Jersey. Neither of those places are as bad as you think.

I put this together too.