Today is Festivus, the holiday for the rest of us.
The next forty-eight hours are going to fucking blow. Cracks have become fault lines, and they will shift. Fortunately, I have liquor. That may blunt the damage. One can hope, anyway.
Made of awesome and Guinness and bright shiny pennies…
Today is Festivus, the holiday for the rest of us.
The next forty-eight hours are going to fucking blow. Cracks have become fault lines, and they will shift. Fortunately, I have liquor. That may blunt the damage. One can hope, anyway.