Newgrange is essentially my holy place, and I hope to see it one day. Mythology or not, to stand where the Tuatha De Danaan are said to have inhabited and are now laid to rest would be otherworldly.

They’re not my current brand of spirituality, but they set me on the path long ago.

Freeman’s Mind is such a comfort to return to every now and then. Ross has one of those Homer Simpson voices that make me feel warm and at peace just listening to.

Fuck yeah… I remember that guy from Operation Body Count (1994 / MS-DOS)… He was tough to take down, and melted into a Thanksgiving turkey when you finally managed. I only had the demo that let me play one level, but I played it a lot…

Years ago I marathoned seasons 1 through 13 while enduring benzo withdrawals. I can absolutely confirm that these ratings are accurate.

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My wife and I have received several compliments just for giving both of our daughters normal, pronounceable names. Names I don’t see very often anymore, but perfectly normal before 9/11 altered the timeline and made everyone unbearably stupid.

I almost got detained for bringing Exploding Kittens in my luggage. The game meows when you open the lid, so the device looked really suspicious. And the name on the front didn’t help.

Shit fucking game, by the way.

Bees went fucking nuts for my lupine, even while living in an urban environment. Only problem was that the aphids did too. So many that it was revolting. I had to aggressively remove them every single day of the colonies would explode and destroy my lupine within a very short time. They’d suck it dry.

I mean… Yeah… This is kind of how it feels here.

In Grade 6 we had a new girl in my school who I got on with really well. The cooler guys among us apparently thought she was dope too, and when I started dating her suddenly, one of them was like, “Congrats, bro. I didn’t know ya had it in you!” I was on top of world.

Then one day shortly after, she showed up to school with this super tight, greasy, old lady perm. The kind that’s like nearly flat to your head, that old women in the 90s would wear a clear plastic bag over. The thing looked bonkers. I spent the next couple of days trying to distance myself from her and that haircut, and found some petty reason to break up with her. She thought I was a total asshole (rightfully), but moved on. Years later I saw her again and that old lady cut was gone. She was doing way better than me.

Flash forward to my mid-twenties, I’m dating this other girl and she goes and gets a new haircut. Blonde dye job and everything. I can only describe the results as a genuine Dutch Boy (example below). But I had learned my lesson and I stuck it out. I wasn’t going to make that same mistake over a haircut. A few weeks while later she fucked some greasy dude from Raleigh, North Carolina, and that was the end of that.