"Blame it on the Toutons"

It is last week.
I am huddled in Wal-Mart, wishing brimstone and blight on the entire building, waiting to use the ridiculous photo-printing machine.
I glance a rug on display. It has two toothy children, all smiley and mocking, emblazoned on it.
I notice a sign below. It says that I can put any print onto a rug for just $179.99. Large bursty yellow sign. Red font. So on, so forth.
I stare at this thing and think to myself that if I was a millionaire, I would send a lot of ludicrous shit to Sarah Turpin.

I interviewed a band member a few days back. I can't say which band he was a member of, but I can say this: he was still very much asleep when I spoke with him.

I'm on my third Rolaid of the day. Not sure what I think of that.

You know the fun thing about having a non-existent memory? You can read notes in your little notebook that say things like: "ass pocket nutrigrain" and wonder what it is that you may have meant by that when you wrote it.

Ever notice that when someone admits that they are "really bad at telling jokes", it is always to preface a joke that they are about to (badly) tell you?

When did ugly boots become okay? Banff was huge into this. All of the women wore hideous winter boots.
Of course, this is because of Australians and their Ugg boots. Clearly.
So maybe my question is this: why are we doing what Australians do? We don't pay attention to them in any other respect. Have you ever eaten Vegemite? Of course you haven't.
Most people dislike Russell Crowe.
Most didn't even have a practical ugliness to them. They were simply atrocities. $300 atrocities.
This girl I saw naked for a while had winter boots that made me want to dart out my fucking eyes every time she put them on.
But then, what do I know about fashion?

Vegemite?
Yeah, I've had it. It tastes terrible. Imagine molasses. Imagine the taste of it, in your brain. Got it?
Now, take the complete and utter opposite of that. And put it on toast. In thick globules.