They all share one.

I’m guessing piri piri.

I went to a mall recently for the first time in I don’t even know how many years because I like that the baggy pants trend from the '90s has come back and I wanted some.

I was shocked at how crowded it was, even on a weekday afternoon. Apparently that particular mall is very much not dying. Also, it had this exact scene in it.

Then it can’t be appealed later.

Get back under that radar. We have to forget you exist!

It’s okay–we old folks can benefit from having a few younguns around.

It’s all for you, Damien!

I don’t think the reds know that Cohen is a Jewish name.

This book was a serious adventure to read the first time.

I am something of a pale pinkish olive myself.

Something like twelve. I saw how miserable everyone around me was and knew it was a crock of shit.

I remember the bean burrito (which is perfectly fine food, btw) being 89 cents. Now I get two and it’s something like six bucks.

They want poor people to be desperate and subjugated. They need the poor to be wage slaves and soldiers.

Sadly only helpful for type one, but it’s great to see a potential new treatment for those folks.

I don’t firmly believe that he did or did not kill himself–though I lean towards he did not–but I take great offense to how every news organization reports suicide as fact when it’s quite questionable.

At least the people would have something to celebrate

As a Pacific Northwesterner who also loves to eat blackberries, I have found that there are tactics. I can handle some brambles pretty well.

Raspberry thorns. Those are worse. They are so thin that they will go right through most leather gloves.

Good. Maybe he’ll give himself a stroke or a heart attack.

Bring back the morbs!

The best kind of drop dead.