Life is funny sometimes. Not in the traditional "ha-ha" sense (although it occasionally manifests itself that way.) It's usually more like the drunk uncle that gives you a solid indian burn knowing full well that your fair Irish skin has been scorched by the unforgiving Florida sun for the past week. A wiser man, or a possibly more ignorant man, than myself once said, "if you can't laugh at yourself then who can you laugh at?" Clowns have never done it for me. Mimes quite frankly creep me out. Homeless types just get me all bummed. To that extent here's a little bit of light-hearted self-deprecation. There are two things in life that are more obnoxious than going to bed hungry; too much hair on my head, and the obsequious beeping of the battery-exhausted smoke alarm in the hallway. While the beeping will drive me to an early grave, the hunger and hair are easily taken care of. For your viewing pleasure I present 'still-life with reverse mohawk', and 'bodega burrito.' Neither will quell my distaste for humanity, but at least they will help me sleep a little better. Here's to gravel gut, sandpaper head, and a heart of stone!
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