
Dirt tastes bad.
You know you’ve been on the net too long when the sign says “Hiring drivers and assistants” and you read “Hiring drivers and asshats.”
I have a roughly two-hour commute to work, door-to-door. By far, the worst, most dreaded part has to be the walk from the train station to the office. My word, where did all these slow people come from, and why do they always walk two or three abreast?
On the train into work this morning, I was listening to MP3s and it hit me: the song I was listening to (Sitting Still by REM) was older than I was when I first heard it.
*sigh*