July 2010
9 posts
The mexican restaurant I was going to eat at alone was choked with people, forcing my agoraphobic hand into a gyro, possibly suicide.
Not A Total Loss
My own stink has roused me out of bed to take some sort of action. Like Howard Hughes putting the pieces together to make a coherent court appearance, I will muster the courage to shower, possibly shave, and retire back to Hulu, finishing off Season One of SPACED. It isn’t entropy, but it isn’t exactly crossing a threshold. Boredom has its place in sobriety, which is the exact reason...
Mel Gibson’s Racist N-WORD Rant: VOICEMAIL
Doughy, middle-aged shirtless man reading a trashy paperback in his rusty pick-up truck; appearing like what I would imagine a modern day prophet to be? I’ll take it and give thanks, Thursday.