Who Cares

I canít cut it anymore, Iím at my ďwitís end,Ē I give up. James Fecundler wonít ever get me out of this dump. If I couldnít myself, what chance does a fake alter-ego man have?

Iím so bummed. I donít even care that that sounds like Iím a fucking hippy. Bummer, man. Harsh. Or something, who cares.

I canít get off this rock with this dumb website either, or with ďAttack of the Space Pud,Ē or with ďBride of Space Pud,Ē or no doubt, with ďCurse of the Space Pud,Ē which will be on shelf in September or something, I donít know. Or maybe who cares.

Iíll never get off this rock. I donít know how. If you canít do it with a website or a zine or a band, how else? Iím trapped with all this dumb garbage.

If youíre in the Purchase, New York area on May 4, be sure to come to the Purchase College food co-op where James Fecundler & The Army Bundlers will be playing our final show of the semester/our lives and selling our EP, ďI Love the Dev.Ē

Get the EP! Itís just a couple bucks, and it has a track called "Bearded Stranger" on it. The show is free, though.

Itíll be awesome, and youíll get to meet me in real life and kidnap me. Just kidding. Or if you want to kidnap me I guess you can. I donít know if anyone would pay for my release. It might be worth a shot.

This sucks.

No one comes to my lousy site except me and my cat. And my cat canít even read English. Just Cat. Also my cat doesnít even really come here. I was lying.

Therefore this is my final post:


I donít even have a eulogy or even an epitaph or a grave or a coffin because I donít care about my site enough. I was thinking Iíd just sort of throw it in a ditch and let the planetís various systems take care of it.

I keep getting off topic. Or maybe not, I donít care. This is it for Daily Doofus. I hope you enjoyed it, but you could hate it too. Iím not going to decide for you.

go back or fuck you