All I ever seem to do when I get on my computer is write cover letters and sob at my bank account. The closest thing I seem to do to blogging is in the form of a Bill Hicks-esque stand-up routine at band practice. It’s not that good.
One of my bandmates is the skinniest person I know who is probably not battling an eating disorder. He eats white castle and drinks diet soda. He won’t drink ‘dark’ beers. He’s the most mentally stable of all of us. How does that work?
