What We've Got Here Is... Failure to Communicate

My poor grandmother really has no choice but to believe her first grandson (not oldest, because screw you) is on drugs. Not prescription ones like Oxycontin. Not vaguely legal but not exactly completely legal ones like marijuana. Nope, she has to think I've got a heroin needle sticking out of my arm while doing lines of coke and washing it down with some crack and/or crystal meth. (Too soon for an Amy Winehouse picture? Yeah, probably too soon.) And something something acid and shrooms. For the record, and in case I ever decide to run for office, I'm not. (That's almost entirely true. As far as you know.)

Why would she think this?

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Back to My Roots

As most of you know, this blog began with spam. I had some fun messing with a spammer until they gave up on me. Well, I decided to kick it old school with this post. Below you'll find my conversation with one Akmal Wahidah, Esq. Yep, Esquire. So you know it's legit.

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An Open Letter to the Connecticut Department of Labor

Dear Connecticut Department of Labor,

I am writing to inform you that you suck. Wait, wait. It's not that I don't appreciate the money you give me every week. I do. No, really, it's great. Thank you for that. No, what I'm writing to you about is your TeleBenefits line.

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International Man of Mystery

I want you all to know something about me. It's very important that you pay very close attention. What I'm about to tell you will most likely blow your mind, but it needs to be said. Are you ready? You sure? Ok, then. Here goes nothing...

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May the Fourth be With You!

Happy Independence Day, everybody! Just a random thought: do you think English people are sick of getting their noses rubbed in it every year? "Haha, England. We kicked your ass. Now watch these fireworks and weep into your tea. You know, the tea we didn't throw into the ocean. Bahahahaha." And then the Queen is all "Oh, bugger off already."

Being American rules.

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