There once was a program where they took groups of troubled teens and put them in grown-up prisons to scare them straight—not straight as in the no longer gay straight, but the straight and narrow kind of straight.
There once was a program where they took groups of troubled teens and put them in grown-up prisons to scare them straight—not straight as in the no longer gay straight, but the straight and narrow kind of straight.
And I don’t mean mustard. There’s a weird piece of crud on the floor that looks like either a Rice Krispy or a turd from a mouse. These things are not interchangeable–tasty marshmallow treats made from mouse excrement are not very enjoyable.
Or, pokey people in general. They are usually in front of me at the grocery store checkout, arguing with the cashier about the expiry date on a coupon and the prices in the weekly flyer for the items they did not get. They got something different, but the sale price should apply because of reasons. …
It’s the only place in the world where random strangers will come up to you and engage you in a complex conversation that makes you want to eat a gun. I really wish they would shut the hell up and leave me alone. I hate them so much.
When I first heard of a place in California named Santa Cruz, I really thought people were talking about a Christmas event on a boat on the ocean, or possibly on a river, a lake, or an estuary. It turns out that it isn’t a littoral Santa Cruise, a cruise where you sit on Santa’s …
Inside Doug's Head 