Spent an hour last night rearranging the furniture in my apartment. by rearranging i mean i moved the dresser into the closet then decided that not having a desk wasn’t worth the tradeoff of having the dresser where it belonged (you see, the dresser is the desk) then i slid it back across the floor. i did all of this while listening to back episodes of This American Life about Harold Washington.
bowl of cashews
bowl of cigarette butts
caffeine free diet coke
caffeine free bourbon
laxative tea
moving the dresser back to where it started
content sharing plus extra secret free secrets:
“The only reason I like girls,” Amis wrote in a letter to Larkin in 1953, “is that I want to [hug] them, which is adolescent, cheap, irresponsible, not worth doing, a waste of time, not much fun anyway really, a needless distraction from my real vocation, destructive of any real power of understanding women which as a novelist HOOHOO should be important to me. . . . All I have to do now is stop wanting to [hug] girls and I shall have the thing licked.”
REMASCULATE, v.: to regain one’s masculinity after engaging in a less-than-masculine activity. Example: “My girlfriend dragged me to The Notebook. I had to remasculate by watching all four Die Hards.” (Urban Dictionary)
