Inside Doug's Head

It is never too late to become wise.

What would James Bond do? It’s a question I ponder in my brain whenever I find myself in an awkward social situation and I would prefer my outward response be a measured, nuanced display of wit and sophistication. Unfortunately, as a social role model, James Bond’s depth is somewhat limited. He would either kill something, rape it until it dies, or make a lewd quip or sexual innuendo, which I believe is an Italian brand of suppository, about killing it and then raping it. “I thought Christmas only comes once a year,” is what he said while he was molestering Santa Clause. Santa thanked him for the milkshake and the ride home, afterwards.

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Is there anything more reductionist than the act of putting all of your belongings into boxes, and then relocating those boxes to some other place? Maybe reductionist isn’t the word I am looking for; I want the one that succinctly describes how physically, mentally, and emotionally crushing moving can be. Moving sucks.

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