Exhibit 12.8

I've apparently suffered some kind of phantom muscle pull in my chest which is making it impossible to do anything other than breathe and type inane, paranoid blog posts. I'm even thinking about losing the breathing if this keeps up.

I say phantom because it was one of those injuries that occurred while I was doing nothing, causing my internal monologue to basically go something like Jesus, my chest hurts. Wait, how long has it been hurting? Think, Peterson, think. Oh no, thinking hurts. I bet that means this is never going away. I really don't want to spend all Tuesday at a doctor only to be referred to another doctor who is only going to tell me that I'm dying. I wonder if that new J.J. Abrams show is on tonight? Oh no, thinking about J.J. Abrams hurts too. Has moving always felt like this? Nothing is ever going to be the same now.

Anyway, I just wanted you to know so that you won't be shocked when my obituary shows up with muscle pull listed as the cause of death.