As I was driving home from work today, I saw on Skipper Rd, a bum sleeping on a bus stop bench while three people stood and waited patiently for the bus, and I thought to myself, “Well at least common courtesy ain't dead.” Just about everything is wrong with that experience, from what I saw to what I thought, but it still made me feel good. I'm not sure what that says about society or even if it's worth exploring, but I smiled when I saw it. And that made me feel good.

One of the great things about being super-fair-haired is that I have to buy new razor blades about once every two years, which means that by the time I get around to purchasing a new razor, there's an entire new generation of them out there. Anyway, the one I bought has four blades, requires a battery (and yes, this is a disposable razor) and leaves my skin feeling like silken butter. It's a Gillette Quatro something or other and it looks like it came off a spaceship. Who knows what I'll get two years from now, but I bet it'll talk to me or make me soup or something. That's how complex these things are getting.

Oh, and more about razors. I have always been a Gillette man because when I was sixteen and first started having to shave (weekly, but so what, it was necessary), Gillette magically sent me a razor in the mail. I've never known how they knew it was time for me to get my own razor, but I've always respected them for being there for me. I am nothing if not loyal.

And drunk. I'm usually drunk, too.

Sunday I went grocery shopping at my local Publix (accept no substitutes unless, you know, you don't have a local Publix because then you have no choice on the matter) and for the first time in my life I did not get carded for beer by my check-out girl. I inquired as to why she didn't card me and she said that I looked old enough. I think a piece of me fell off, died, and decided to spend the rest of its life in that Publix. I mean, fuck! Getting old sucks.

The Saint Louis Cardinals are trying to give me an aneurism. I swear to God.

And finally, because logic and fluidity fell asleep on a park bench while waiting for the bus, I leave you with the following, which was sent to me (by a girl, I hope) in an email.

“If you're ever in Arizona, no one gives better blowjobs than I do. I don't even mind if you drink beer and watch TV while I pleasure you.”


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