Partly having to do with saberxo's adventures in South America this year, I've discovered that I can't stand to drink Coca-Cola unless it's sufficiently watered down in a fountain drink or bottled in Mexico. Bottles from below the border might have a battered, recycled quality to the outer glass, giving it a somewhat tampered look, but the content within ( Read more... )

I'm going to begin by saying that I would rather write something short, delightful and funny than indulge this accursed and unshakeable daemon of inner turmoil. I'm no Proust or Freud and can no better describe or outline the psychological ravages of sexual jealousy, but of all the imposing ideas orbiting around my mental centre, these thoughts on ( Read more... )