Volcanoes

I am a man, and a free one at that, am I not?

I do not, however, speak French or know all the laws.

It's one of those mornings, boys.

Post-Apocalypse

At this point in my life, I would want to destroy everything else for purely aesthetic purposes.

There is a word without poseurs, and it looks like it hurts.

Read Cormac McCarthy's The Road.

My week(end).

1. Drank just about every night this week. Averaged 3/4s of a pack of cigarettes per day. Consistently, perpetually, found myself to be the only person in a room that was formerly full of people, then checking my phone to find it was dangerously close to 5. Walk home. Drink another beer for purely hubristic reasons.

2. Friday decide to celebrate incipient springtime with bloody mary(s). Made the stiffest bloody mary known to man. Watched Dark On (highly recommended). Went to a party where three free kegs were proudly advertised, found it to be the filthy, musty, lopsided den of a house (that I always knew it to be) full of equally despicable characters wearing clothes that matched the wallpaper, worshiping the most despicable of them all (the tenants) for providing free booze. Insulted host, the nameless redheaded overgrown vermin, lord of the orphans, with words I couldn’t possibly remember. Kicked out of house at around 12:15 AM. Was grateful, being now very self-consciously drunk and exhausted. Stepped into room, sadly uninhabited, fell in some way into full-length mirror resting in closet, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Laid for awhile amidst fresh snowfall of scintillating crystalline shards, afraid to move, then rising, removing clothes, falling asleep in bed within moments. Woke up to little specks of blood all over bedspread, cut on arm, cursing self.

3. Spent the entirety of Saturday inside, cursing self. Went to work at library, watched Milo and Otis while reading the New York Times Magazine’s Guide to Men’s Style. Did not smoke cigarettes. Put on robe to take shower at 7. Fell asleep at 8. Woke up bewildered at 1:30 am. Decided against miraculous vodka marathon to surpass already-drunk people calling me from party. Nodded off again. Woke up at 8:30, not tired for the first time in awhile. Took a shower for the first time in days, ate breakfast in commons with three girls I had never seen before. Currently debating next move.

Petit was a pussy; he used a pole.

"Other Sports" section? They should put it in a section called "Fucking Courage" or, like, "You Are Inferior" or better yet, "Reasons You Are Not a Man." Hell, they should just write about this all the time. This is the only news that I see fit to print.