People are inherently good. We're raised to believe this concept from the time we're old enough to get bored during liturgy and choose sides on the playground. Most kids aren't concerned with empirical validation when the freedoms they hold most dear are threatened; yanno, stuff like playtime and dessert. Then there was me. I… Continue reading The Proof In Our Existence
3 Days In Woodstock
The Museum at Bethel Woods is the good acid. Because it will trip you out inside the time spent, with no shitty side effects. Yanno . . like ending up in the ER, or dying. I could go through a good many different sentiments in regards to the forty five minute gallivant me and Q took… Continue reading 3 Days In Woodstock
Mostly Fearless NFL Predictions!
I decided not to play fantasy football this season, because I don't feel like cursing players I don't even know. Besides, I finished first in my league last year and I'm fucking tired, yanno? You might wonder why I wouldn't want to defend my title, and to that I answer with this. By not playing,… Continue reading Mostly Fearless NFL Predictions!
Wordless Wednesday
Tricking out my Tuesday
In a recent interview, Wednesday and Thursday were asked to describe Tuesday's best attribute. They replied in unison, "It ain't Monday,". Now, maybe this has something to do with the fact that Wednesday and Thursday are so close . . they're practically inseparable. But I do believe they have a point, yanno? Tuesday could do… Continue reading Tricking out my Tuesday
Three Days In Woodstock
The ride from Woodstock to Max Yasgur's farm in Bethel, New York is a stained glass portrait of mountain ranges that unfurl in rhythmic piecemeal. Inside the deep emerald wound of birches, maples, cedars, hornbeams and spruce, you can taste the flavor of a thousand years worth of patience. Geologically speaking, the Catskills are not… Continue reading Three Days In Woodstock
Scenes in a Target
He stands motionless, one arm lagging at his side like a piece of unspooled yarn while the other one is thumbing through a boutique novelette. He reads with the kind of urgency you'd expect from someone taking the bar, or fine tooth combing a life insurance policy for loopholes. When he lifts his head to… Continue reading Scenes in a Target
