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Lately, as I sit up watching late-nite TV, I stop paying attention to the show itself and concentrate on the advertising to try and work out what demographics advertisers think are watching.
Awesome Shit That I Want Monday
Because as a concerned global citizen, I feel very strongly that we should all do our part to help shore up Greece’s crumbling economy. Also, I love a good cocktail.
Loose Links Sink Ships
It’s 4:08, and I’m wide awake. Perhaps it’s time to turn to the internet for some amusement, or for the provocation of thoughts, n’est-ce pas? Perhaps you too are awake, and have a similar need.
Morton’s Fork
It’s a thing, really. I suppose it could be worse; I could be facing a Buridan’s ass, or some other whimsically-named dilemma that sounds like a Magic: The Gathering card. Not that I know anything about those.
No Sleep ‘Til Brooklyn
Tuesday night insomnia: Sour, mineral tang of uncoated pills. Tepid tapwater washes it away. Soothing drone of informercials; snoring dogs. Counting rich mosaic of ceiling cracks.*
Awesome Shit That I Want Monday
Time sure does fly when you’re a Pinterest-addicted insomniac cripple. Between browsing photos of overly-designed interiors and watching infomercials for Susan Lucci’s Malibu Pilates, it’s like there’s no time at all between the hits of Oxycontin!
How do you like them apples?
And so, after a scant two and a half weeks of unbearable pain, the mystery is solved. I am filled both with profound relief, and with the urge to climb to the top of a mountain and yell, “SUCK IT, DOCTORS.”