Inside Doug's Head

I am not a number, I am… What's that stuff they make glue out of? I'm that. Forever swirling, forwards and upwards, but always sticky. Sometimes, a little sad.

In rural areas, the source of the perpetual chirping noise is crickets. As annoying as that sound is, the New York City equivalent is the constant din of car horns. The drivers, here, honk at everything, and I’m not talking about happy eighth-note, “Hey! How you doing?” kind of honks, either. No, these are angry-whole …

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