Why can't I get this really bad pop song out of my head? Here's how it works: troubling lyrics invade my brain, simultaneously horrifying and fascinating me. They are utterly phallocentric and beg to be deconstructed.
"So hot, we'll melt your popsicle..."
REALLY Katy Perry? That's not even subtle.
Scary workplace vending machine item of the week: "Microwavable Nacho Dog (with Jalepenos!)"
I couldn't make this stuff up even if I tried.
Online social networks are insidious. I contemplate self-erasure daily. The Kid tells me this is not possible. I will always exist as a cluster of data. The fact that I ate a delicious bagel in 2008 will be stored on a server somewhere forever & ever.
Me, mid-July 2018
1 day ago