Ryan Gives The Fingers
There's not a whole lot of excitement happening in the World of Ryan this week, hence the silence. I did manage to damage the middle finger on both my left and right hand in a pair of entirely unrelated incidents falling within the span of a half hour. It's not a terribly exciting story; nonetheless, I hope you appreciate the pain associated with each use of a middle-finger key within this post, those being c, d, e, i, k, and the comma.
I feel a little guilty wasting the heart of the summer away on video games and Frasier reruns, but I can't seem to gather the ambition necessary to do anything more exciting. Even with my birthday approaching, I've called off any chance of plans for the weekend, which were never really going anywhere anyway. Not that I'm complaining, I'm perfectly happy sitting around the house with Sanjit, but I still feel like I should be out making friends at a bar or one of the endless string of summer festivals that scatter the area. I don't particularly enjoy these ideas, but if you're not full of sausage and beer, everyone in Milwaukee looks at you funny, and considering how funny looking Milwaukeeans can be when they're look at you in a standard fashion, that's saying a lot.
And finally, I leave you with a plea: Lysol may do a bang-up job at killing bacteria, it may even have some charmingly outdated use as a feminine hygiene product, but it is under no circumstances an air freshener. Nobody loves the smell of poop, excluding the more sexually adventurous among us, but leaving behind a heavy mist of a substance scientifically engineered to kill doesn't seem like a very friendly solution. Please don't.
I feel a little guilty wasting the heart of the summer away on video games and Frasier reruns, but I can't seem to gather the ambition necessary to do anything more exciting. Even with my birthday approaching, I've called off any chance of plans for the weekend, which were never really going anywhere anyway. Not that I'm complaining, I'm perfectly happy sitting around the house with Sanjit, but I still feel like I should be out making friends at a bar or one of the endless string of summer festivals that scatter the area. I don't particularly enjoy these ideas, but if you're not full of sausage and beer, everyone in Milwaukee looks at you funny, and considering how funny looking Milwaukeeans can be when they're look at you in a standard fashion, that's saying a lot.
And finally, I leave you with a plea: Lysol may do a bang-up job at killing bacteria, it may even have some charmingly outdated use as a feminine hygiene product, but it is under no circumstances an air freshener. Nobody loves the smell of poop, excluding the more sexually adventurous among us, but leaving behind a heavy mist of a substance scientifically engineered to kill doesn't seem like a very friendly solution. Please don't.