They don't give you a day off
on the day the
bad guys win
It's just a Tuesday
No time to mourn
Drive past the
men wearing black
with your morning coffee
The quarterly reports
are due today
Maria didn't show up to work
I'm sure it's fine
You'll get used to
that feeling of dread
and there's much to do

Keeping up with the news makes you think that somewhere, locked in a room, there's an immortal and very much cursed Billy Joel chained to a computer, endlessly churning out a dot matrix printer paper tapestry of fresh WE DIDN'T START THE FIRE lyrics in some kind of Sisyphean punishment.

“Handkerchief” implies the existence of footkerchiefs

One of the funniest things about my dad is that he refuses to let a sneeze happen. He just plugs his nose and lets that thing ricochet back into his brain. Nobody knows where he learned this behavior, and none of us are brave enough to question his methods.

Not me. I’m not the one who spray-painted “I”’s into every TO LET sign I see when visiting the UK. Couldn’t be me.

Pronouncing it “bisky” in my head forever

Just thinking about when I was a soft 13y/o playing men’s softball in a church league and the jacked 38 y/o guy on my team who would launch absolute rockets at me during “warmups”. What a douchebag.