It’s common for people who’ve been knocked unconscious in car accidents (or by any means, really) to have several minutes of their memory wiped out and wake up in a hospital bed with no recollection of how they got there. Since I read that fun fact, probably about 10 years ago, every time I drive long distances and I’m following a car that applies the brakes, I think about what...
I’ve always found a strange solace in being overwhelmed. So much shit happens so close together that you think no fucking way I’m going to manage all of this, so I’m not even going to try.
When all of that crap about Witstream and Favstar went around last week, I really wanted to say something. I still do. But I won’t. This is progress. Or maybe just laziness.
I just realized that the video I posted of my daughter starting to crawl is upside-down, which gives it an unsettling Trainspotting vibe.
The Hydrocodone Alpaca
I’m not a pill guy. At all. Don’t like ‘em. Take ‘em only unwillingly. But I’ve been dealing with a pinched nerve that’s got my whole right side feeling janky and has me limping around like an old man. So last night I took some hydrocodone that I’d never used from a past injury and, oh my god, I had the most unbelievable dream I’ve ever had. It was...
Oh, nothin’, just watching Thomas home movies on YouTube.
Let the trouble begin.
Truthful Tuesday: Youthful Indiscretions
I once bought a Charlotte Hornets cap solely because I liked how it looked.
It’s too bad that there have been so many doping scandals in the Tour de France. It’s truly an awe-inspiring mix of endurance, precision, skill, teamwork, and technology.