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Continue reading ‘Judgment Day: Part 4′
Chapter Two
Stream-of-Sock
Continue reading ‘Boble VIII: Subliminal Messages On The Cereal Box, conclusion’
We all remember what happened last time. This has all, somehow, made us experts. When the season begins, the government and the media remind us to make our plans. Buy some maps. Update your phone numbers. Gather all the right containers. We all know better. They’re not the experts. It’s us, the ones on the ground. We’ll do as we see fit. Continue reading ‘The Gustav Evacuation, Part 1: Preparations’
This is coming up more and more the older I get: Where do I want to be in life? It’s like I’m a teenager again! SAT time! If you put your name in the right spot you get to go to college and do drugs and have sex with fast women and drunkenly pass out in a drainage ditch during a storm.
We have new readers at GS! What the fuck is The Boble? Roll back to the Intro for this little corner of my sad blog.
Continue reading ‘Boble VIII: Subliminal Messages On The Cereal Box, part one’
My little web design minion, Tyson Tate, has set out on a 350 mile post-graduation bike journey from Davis to San Luis Obispo, CA. Which means nothing to me because I live in a small hole in the ground on the east coast and refuse to accept that there’s a larger world out there.
The fun part is that you can follow him on Twitter right here. I don’t really get the whole Twitter thing, but I have found myself living vicariously through the short, cryptic updates. Which is the ultimate sign that I’ve been working in the same windowless office at a thankless job for far too long.
I wrote this last week and set it up to auto-post and, of course, the night before, we get nine (and maybe more) folks snuffed out in what is otherwise a routine Metro accident — trains on the same track hitting each other. Which is something I thought only happened in Old West movies, yet this isn’t the first time two Metro trains have collided, and everyone riding the line that crashed last night has passed through the Brentwood graveyard of crashed trains. Metro likes to keep them out in the open, torn up and smashed and clearly illustrating that we’re all riding in aluminum cans driven by brain dead people who can’t even pronounce “Rhode Island” correctly.
Regardless, these things happen. Unlike Joe Biden, I am still a rail supporter even in times of crisis. Mainly because I’d end up killing more than nine people if I had to drive to work. So the article below stands.
Just having finished The Pesthouse, a love story disguised as a post-apocalyptic novel, and having my interested piqued by Nacho’s new project, I decided to join in the fun and present a list of the best cataclysmic or apocalyptic songs. Also, there is a giant high pressure system just squatting over the entire Gulf region and the past week has felt like I’ve been reliving the same 104 degree day over and over. Even the dog doesn’t want to go outside. My brain is mush. So no glowing stories or insight today, just an improvised playlist! Continue reading ‘High Rotation Special: Apocalypse!’
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