225952 went to Harold & Angie's for a BBQ. wings. corn. beer. all that american stuff. good old fashioned semi-white Obama-hatin TSI-workin Americans. people who believe that a country is a thing, and that it's "ours." Harold is smarter, but he's smart enough not to talk. they have a dog. they have to move because the landlord is selling the house right now. that truly sucks. they seemed so at home. they were going to buy it in two years. but now.... they're just like me suddenly again, somewhat. that should assuage my envy, but ppphah, I can't get up the energy to be vindicated. we all live in the tower. our differences are significant but meaningless. it's like how many cigarettes do you have, whose bitch are you, etc etc. that bitch that used to be my wife and therefore companion at these bbqs and assorted similar functions, she thinks she's something special because she's in prison now, and doesn't have the privilege of worrying about these subtle social cues now, she's not so special. she's just a spectacular loser in the same video game we're all eventually going to lose at. we're all fucking peasants. just some of us accept it more gracefully than others, and start drinking ourselves to death with good humor and fatty chips and dip as soon as we turn 21 without all the existential bullshit, with some nice good humor and grace. and some of us still chafe and pretend we have a choice. embrace the message. embrace the leather. shut the fuck up and go to work but tonight, tonight we eat glorious charred poultry, and drink mass produced beer, and throw lighter fluid on the fire, and say goodnight. goodnight. goodnight. get some rest. you're going to need it. (2014)