BOOK UPDATE: I hit a bit of writer's block earlier in the week, but things have improved in the latter part of the week. Of course, in writing this book I am constantly amusing myself. This week I was particularly self-pleased with this line:
"We were a little louder, a little drunker, a little more debauched. And we sang all the time. We were the Portsmouth Scumbags Canoe Club."
I would hope they'd put that on a T-shirt.
Number of beers consumed last night: 5
Level of hangover: 3.5
How is that fair? A measly 80 ounces of beer and I'm done in. And, as seems to always be the way these days, I felt fine when I left the bar. I'm getting old.
"custom solution packaging products" -- What does that even mean?! It's just four words randomly pulled from the dictionary. This is why I make a horrible capitalist -- I'm not any good at speaking in nonsense terms.
I just pulled my own four words from my handy New Expanded Webster's Dictionary. From now on, I am a specialist in "elfish isobar panorama recoil."
The headline makes me want to go to San Jose State. The story isn't nearly as exciting.
Using a dinner fork and a battery?
Best name I've seen in a while: Fitsum Gebreegziabher -- from this less-than-cheery story.
To quote the sage wisdom of Blue Oyster Cult: "History shows again and again how nature points out the folly of men."
One suspects this study was funded by the Las Vegas tourism board.