I call the washed one bitey
I call the washed one bitey
In a similar punk/pop-punk vein, I saw The Matches are doing a few reunion shows and found myself diving headfirst into their 3 albums again. I’ve always thoroughly enjoyed them.
Bob Newhart, everybody!
Once you can lift over 100, you reach enlightenment and never miss the hole.
Cause when you reach over and put your hand into a pile of goo that was your best friend’s face, you’ll know what to do! Forget it, Marge, it’s Chinatown!
Sigh. The ol “We investigated ourselves and found no wrongdoing.”
So maybe you’d be a good person to ask who wrote The Moon Rules #1 on my car with a key.
That filthy superhero made the orange juice you’re drinking
This tickles a VERY specific part of my brain.
A week or so ago I had just finished a tough workout at my big box gym and was heading back to my car around sunrise. I looked up and saw the most beautiful and massive pink and purple ripples stretched out from the edge of the horizon to where I was standing. It was so impressive that I had to stop a moment in the middle of the parking lot and soak it in. Then, within 2 minutes, the clouds had shifted and everything returned to a depressing gray.
Beauty like this is everywhere, but it sure can be fleeting.
So I guess buying a water filter for my tap at home isn’t going to save me.
Aggregating some information in this comment based on what I’ve read throughout the internet.