Happy Friday, everyone. We’re catching up on two weeks’ worth of news stories today, so let’s get started, and you can get a nice, shiny sense of somewhat informed accomplishment.
I considered recapping this episode by posting a photo of my head exploding, with the words, “Holy shit!” written below and just letting it go at that. Because, my friends, holy shit. And, what. the. hell.
I sat there drinking cheap, weak coffee in one of our many 24-hour diners, surrounded by the rest of the usual suspects. My car was outside with a flat tire, and I really didn’t care. I’d probably be here until it was light out anyway, that was just how it went on Friday and Saturday night when you’re too young for bars, too uncoordinated for clubs and you’d rather hear your friends argue the Yankees roster and see who could connect Abe Vigoda to Dudley Moore in the least number of movies instead of doing the party scene. Read More Seventeen