today you are reading a post

written by a boy--nay, a man--who has just climbed out of massive debt. barely, but who's counting. it's about fucking time. now i can finally put them paychecks to good use as opposed to automatically handing 'em over to the credit card goons. who cares that i have only nineteen days of getting paid left?

fuck. i do. i will most definitely need some source of income this summer so that i won't be a starving grad student in september. someone please hire me. on top of that i'm also in search of four walls, a bathroom, and possibly one or a few cool customers with whom to share it all.

but i digress. all that matters is that i finally gots some cash money in my pocket and some new wheels (more on this later). i want to take you out in your holiday sweater.

after i ruined mother's day for the eighth time

i read lenny bruce is dead. i found it to be so fucking gorgeous and brilliant that i read it again. no other book matters more than this one, that is until i come across one that matters more than this one.

Chick wanted to see what the world was like when you were relaxed, so he put on a bathrobe and slippers and took a walk through his neighborhood. He carried a paper cup of orange juice. He wanted to feel like the world was a hospital solarium and the doctors were very pleased with his progress.
-Jonathan Goldstein