This morning me and MoLinder definitely sat around and read my blog to each other out loud, reading simultaneously from our separate laptops, a sad, hysterical pajama reenactment, laughing hysterically because we am goddamn hysterical.
Don't know if you guys knew about that. My evident hysteria. Thought I'd let you know.
And next time some creepy dude asks you about the landscape of your pubic hair, tell him it's the Bat Signal and give yourself a well-earned high five for skillful evasive maneuvering. It's like I'm the X-43 of speaking, which is crazy because those things clock in at like Mach 7 or something.
Of course, they also crash into the ocean eventually, forlorn and forgotten, having fulfilled their supersonic destiny of telling that sound barrier what's what.
Doesn't matter. At least I left an impression. Like those vapor cloud singularities that puff out during a sonic boom.
I am digging this analogy.
You know what? NASA is the shit.
PS: No taxation without representation.