A GLP Wednesday Morning

   Startled by the sharp pain in my gut, I spring out of bed, grab my iphone, and instinctively head towards the shitter.  Passing the sliding glass window leading out onto the balcony, I deduce from the lack of light outside that my melatonin supplement has again failed to provide a full night's rest.  Disappointed, but undeterred, I make my way into the restroom, drop trough, and nestle myself onto the Great Seat of Clarity. 
   The emptying of my bowels takes less than 25 seconds, as most of the work is completed in the first moments of hover, however my work in this place is far from over.  I bring up my Wi-Fi settings, only to swap it off and opt for the slower 3G coverage.  Somehow, I have managed to become an IP adress enemy of the site which I have grown to become addicted to.  
   Over the last 3 months, I have accrued a love/hate relationship with GLP, which has brought forth many new changes in my habits, from Illuminati spotting to monitoring my data plan to make sure I don't hit any overage fees for the month.  One of my favorite changes, however, comes not in the form of information or awareness, but in community. 
   I've probably only posted 10 or so times, but I've spent countless hours recently immersing myself in the background here at GLP.  Many of you have become pseudo-mentors and heroes to me, albeit unknowingly.  Some of you have even become my new sub-set of dream-women, sparked by a hot avatar picture, a propensity for the weird, and a simple claim of "Yes, I'm a woman!"  (One of the hottest phrases a GLP'er can read on this site)
   Finishing up my morning business, I opt for a cold shower over the hot, for 3 new Doom posts have rendered me with a full-on fear-ection.   Maybe today will finally be the day...
   Stepping out of the shower, I smell like a combination of Old Spice and New Spice, the scent of which immediately brings life back into my loins.  Feeling like a million bucks of non-fiat currency, I head to the closet to choose the attire of the day.
   AsI look through my closet for the perfect button-up shirt, I realize that I'm no different than any other GLP'er with one exception;  I put my pants on with no hands, and rarely get my dick caught in the zipper.  Funny, for as different as we all are, we all feel the same pain during accidental gential mutilation.
   The moral of this story is, there is no moral of the story.  That's another thing I've come to learn and appreciate here.  Doom or no Doom, every morning I wake up I expect each and every one of you to be on your best conspiratard behavior, regardless of world events.  Afterall, Doom is not found in Bohemian Grove, Chemtrails, UFO's, or Psy-Ops.  Nay, true unconditional doom lies within the hearts of those who carry its torch.   To be trendy: Keep Calm and Doom On.
   If I wasted a few minutes of your morning, I sincerely apologize for your poor decision to not cut and run from this thread after reading the first few sentences.  As much as I love pissing people off, I wrote this in an attempt to make each and every one of you smile and feel special.  Even when the shills come out in full force, and you feel obligated to refresh your thread every 60 seconds to defend your position against a half-retard, just know that there is someone out there like me, taking a very meaty dump, and anxiously awaiting your reply.

Much Love to you all, I hope you all wake up inspired today.