nv6 in idea barrages

Perfect is boring. The little imperfections let the glory of the art or the person shine. Perfect things aren’t meant for here, may your works and your loves be bodhisattvas with just enough beautiful flaws to stick around here for a while and shine their light. Nirvana can wait.

Schrodinger’s Blame: they don’t want to accept that these killings only happened because of the guns, so they blame mental health, but they don’t do anything about mental health either, they just want you to not see the gun as the blame.

They could’a made a banger of an ad for Kelloggs Bran Flakes with that “Bacon Pancakes” song from Adventure Time but nobody thinks to ask me. Could’a made Bran Flakes cool again, cereal people. Could’a done it.

Taco Bell is the cryptid of fast food.

How is there not a hipster band in Brooklyn (or maybe all the hipster bands have been priced out to Ridgewood Queens?) named “Gowanus Morrisette”? It just seems so perfect.

So, Parker has Queens, Morales has Brooklyn, in some continuities Rogers has lower-Manhattan, Murdock has Midtown West, Cage has Harlem and the Bronx. Where’s the magical pixie woman defending Marvel’s Richmond County as “The Staten Island Fairy”?

Being young-ish looking for my early 40s, I find comfort in knowing I could still play a high-school junior in a GREASE reboot.

Sometimes, I like to pretend that “beef stew” is actually a working-man’s version of the far more fancy-schmancy dish “beef stewart”.