Apparently, 'going to Paris and then being rescued by your as yet unrequited love' is the new 'it was all a dream.' Nothing says 'independence' like fulfilling a dream and then pooing all over it in the name of love. Just ask Hemingway.
By the by, all of my reader(s) should be regarding McSweeney's Daily Reason to Dispatch Bush. Factual as well as alarming, and nestled cozily amongst some of the funniest writing EVER. And to keep it all 'fair and balanced,' may I suggest visiting this page, also containing the utmost in irony and hilarity.
I wonder how many golf balls it would take before I figured out that my dog was trying to kill herself. I think I could make it to 32.
If you've ever said to yourself, "My what a generic tramp that Frankie is, but oh how I love her..." then you should read this article.
A moment of silence for Pat Tillman. Though I could care less about his football career, he sounded like a good fellow. He left behind his wife and family. Cursuum perficio.
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