Random sentences from the last 12 months.
January: "I guarantee you that what I think and feel in any given space of time is far superior to Point Break."
February: "There are all sorts of negatives to working in the same building as your pops -- you have to behave, all personal anecdotes are too easily fact checked, drinking stories must be toned down or kept to oneself, and I see my dad every damn day -- but one plus is the fact that I haven't had to buy a new car."
March: "You can walk around all day long and say, 'I am a member of the West-Northeast-Lower-Central-Near-The-Dumpster-But-Not-Quite-All-The-Way-To-The-Door-Of-The-Perkins-Side Crips,' but as long as you never actually congregate with other members of the WNLCNTDBNQATWTTDOTP-Side Crips, you'll stay out of trouble."
April: "Ignoring the irony and humor of my drawing the ire of the air hockey community, I extend to them a whole-hearted apology and suggest that they explore one of the other 36 million blogs that currently exist on Ye Olde Internet."
May: "Mrs. Kennedy could crush Cherie Blair with one hand."
June: "I kind of like just lying there without any sheets, feeling the warmth of summer evening envelope me, staying perfectly still -- doing my best to expend as little energy as possible; trying not to even think."
July: "Quick, describe your daily life in the form of a newspaper headline: St. Paul Man Corrects English, Drinks Heavily."
August: " It's in my blood to be this white trash."
September: "Some day, God will pay me back for past transgressions by giving me a son who thinks U2 are brilliant."
October: "Pretty soon she'll be getting together with her friends every night in an effort to avoid him -- her friends are Jose Cuervo, Jim Beam, and Captain Morgan."
November: "Apparently, in the northern suburbs of Paris, they have riot cars -- similar to the winter car, but always ready for burning amid a major civil unrest."
December: "Apparently, that is what Bill O'Reilly wants: a big, gay Mother-Of-God-Hating Christmas."