Tuesday, December 30, 2014

The news these days is such a fucking bummer.

Shit, I almost liked it better when car bombs in Iraq were dominating the headlines.

Consider:
  • all those kids in a school in Pakistan getting shot-up
  • ISIS doing its murder-y crazy stuff
  • people getting gunned down by cops
  • cops getting gunned down by people
  • planes crashing into oceans
  • the Toronto Maple Leafs
(Too soon? C'mon, Leaf Nation, it'll be alright one of these decades.)

Unfortunately, I don't have an antidote for this. I don't have a joke, other than the lousy one above.

Hmm...

. . .

. . .

uh...

. . .

hmm.

Sunday, December 21, 2014

I have door-envy.

I am now the semi-proud owner of a four-door car, for the first time in my life; my previous three were coupes.

Four doors is just, well, too many doors. Think about it: you need a door to get in on the left side, and one to get in on the right side. Any more than two means you've got superfluous doors in there, buckaroo.

I'll be driving down the street thinking, "Jeez, I wonder what those doors are doing back there. Are they fully closed? Are the windows down a touch?" Unless I crank my head around and look at 'em, I'll never know. And that's irritating.

When I was in Florida last week -- hooray for work-related travel! -- I would check out two-door cars driving by and think, "Oooooh, hot damn, I wish I had one of them." It's like they were Kate Upton or something. Which is ridiculous, of course.

But, here we are. J owns a dorky, four-door car.

Damn.

Merry Fucking Christmas, assholes.