Bury Me in Black

We have had a devastating loss in the family this week, the victim of senseless dumbassery. And we are the folks who try to make blog entries out of crap like this, so here you go. RIP Simon. Lover of Ben Folds Five, Fall Out Boy and The Used. He also cherished Julie Nunes, although just the one track, he couldn't afford the whole album. He was not so much a fan of riding into the washing machine in the pocket of a Punisher jacket. I suspect he blinked his little screen off and on, yelled WE ARE HERE WE ARE HERE WE ARE HERE like the Whos, maybe tried to use the ear buds for a flotation device for a bit, and then just gave it up like Jack in the Titanic and wished Al well in her future, but he RESENTED her, I'll bet.

The grieving widow. Notice the heart shape of the ear buds, like Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist, we try to be topical.

Emo make-up lovingly applied. She says I should be lucky she doesn't leave the house like this everyday. I say it is she who is lucky to dodge the inevitable ass kicking that would come her way if dressed in such shenanigannery.


This is what the kids are doing all up in chemistry class these days, evidently making crack pipes. It was all one piece but she brokeded it, just like SIMON.

Absolutely nothing happened to Annie this week that may have made me feel like an old hag.