mar 14 in idea barrages

I’ve seen more arrests in front of the Renaissance Bar after a drunken cat fight over Canal Days than I’ve seen of these penny-ante stormtroopers breaking into the Capitol with guns and Confederate flags to LARP their little putz-putsch.

Sous-vide that stromboli. Call it a Haute Pocket. There’s an insurrection on, it might be the only time no one will care enough to call you out on your horrifying sin against food.

If you wanna be bummed out by something different for a second, run with me here: I just realized that people are going to try to have Super Bowl parties next month and THAT’S gonna be the next superspreader wave. So. That’s neat.

If you put on cologne or perfume after a shower, aren’t you just using a reodorant?

I just realized that Boston is the Scrappy Doo of cities and it all makes sense now.

Hey, dominos, little caesars, I got a pitch for either of you next fall: “No-Hut November”. Free of charge. I’m diabetic anyway, can’t do the carbs.

It’s so weird in genre novels, it’s like the writers don’t actually wanna be writers, they just write until they’re successful enough to not write anymore, just throw plot ideas at underpaid ghostwriters and collect cash. Financial success and fame as the only end is so weird. The craft is the reward, the pay just sustains you through the craft.

Saying Pence had the power to reject Electoral Votes is like seeing a celebrity get an honourary doctorate and taking it to mean he can perform an appendectomy. You have to willfully misunderstand the power of a ceremonial title AND the meanings of many words to get there.