DON'T MAKE ME HAVE A GOOD TIME, PART III
Max, Chad, Sarah, and me, photographed surreptitiously by Jason Loewenstein at the Sebadoh house party back in March (I just noticed that he had a blog after he posted an entry on Facebook. Also, holy shit, I forgot about that haircut where I asked for a trim and I got the most geometrically straight line I’ve ever seen before.) Let’s see what he has to say about us: That’s...
Someone on my Facebook has posted twice today about the new Limp Bizkit album. Not even making fun of it, both posts are about how good it is. In 2011. From someone who has got to be pushing thirty. I mean I know I went to high school in Jacksonville but this is ridiculous.
Who would have thought that “Go to work dressed like a drug-addled hipster while sporting a cut on the corner of my mouth that looks exactly like a herpes sore Day” would coincide with “Get invited to eat with handsome Latin American and Italian men from my very small subfield Day”?
I JUST SAW A SPANISH-LANGUAGE VERSION OF "MAN IN...
I HAVE A NEW LANDLADY
“What is your name?” “Ashleigh.” “Que?” “Ashleigh.” “Say again please?” “Ashleigh.” “Spell?” “A-S-H-L-E-I-G-H.” “Ay Dios mio.” “Sorry.” “Is okay. I will call you Ana. Here is the electricity meter, Ana.”