IS A WORLD WHERE SEAN CONNERY NEVER EXISTED...
New podcast is up! I've been struggling to work out how to make a talk about dominance interesting and informative, and then I watched the Big Lebowski. So fuck it, let's go bowling.
On a side note from everything, I hate people who try to sell me magazines, especially when they call my phone to do it. If they sell door to door at least I can hide from them, and know the face of the enemy. On the phone though, I think "I don't know that number. Is that someone I know?" And I answer because it might be someone I'd like to talk to, and thirty seconds later I am hoping the other person dies in a fire.
Then I take a breath and cool down. After swearing at the soliciting sonofabitch, and reducing them to a quivering pile of human-shaped cowardice.
These are people who live in caves. They live terrible lives, eking out an existence only at the whim of their cruel telemarketer overlords. Their only source of solace is to call, and offer you a magazine subscription. They love magazines. They think you love them to. They don't realize there is an internet, where i can get news, photos, music and more. They are beaten every hour on the hour. These people live terrible lives, so when they call to offer you useless piles of glossy paper, be kind to them. Offer them the number of a humanitarian shelter, which rescues these poor souls, gives them a place to stay, and, if no one takes them into their home, will at least make their final days comfortable.
Don't stop hitting Jehova's Witnesses though. We are so close to a new high score.
Late Facts: The actual, real true face of madness is Patrick Rothfuss. He wrote a book called "The Name of the Wind", and another is due out sometime, and goddamit I want it now. The man is a devil.
Go to bed, already: But before succumbing to sleep, check this out!
And another blogger interviews the fellow.I desires much to watch this movie.