sept 3 in idea barrages

Some cast i-Ching, some consult cards, some watch stars. I guess I dabble in frequomancy. I hit scan on the radio and listen for songs speaking to my situation. It’s silly, it probably means nothing but it’s no less improbable than any other divination.

People complaining about a restaurant being closed on a holiday weekend when they didn’t call ahead for reservations. “But the website wasn’t updated!” It’s astonishing how little work people will put into research but it’s everyone else’s fault.

If all my attempts at getting back into the dating pool are gonna fail, I may as well at least start using deconstructionist icebreakers amuse me. “Did it hurt?” “Did what hurt?” “When you fell out of the cloning tanks in the high-rise where they grow hot people.”

I get a perverse joy out of when a sequel specifically ignores other sequels because they were terrible. Is it called a “deboot”? It should be if it isn’t. I think the new Terminator is gonna be one of those and I think it’s the only thing it has going for it.

On Soviet social media, book vagues YOU!

German cuisine? DO YOUR WURST.

Cap’n Crunch would eventually have a pegleg himself, not from battle at sea though, from breakfast-cereal-driven diabetic amputation.

“Greta Van Fleet” sounds like a transportation company run by bad-ass gramma truckers.