Accomplished and Normal

Accomplished and Normal

I feel slightly accomplished this weekend. For starters, I cleaned up the kitchen. Sure, I messed it up again shortly thereafter. However, the fact that I did it in the first place was a step in a positive direction.
He’s scared, and I’m drunk.

He’s scared, and I’m drunk.

He was panicking when he called. "I'm really scared," he said. "I'm the only one not taking part in the hunger strike". I don't know if the three episodes of OZ he's watched in his lifetime are stuck in his head, but god only knows what he thought was going to happen to him if he ate what could arguably be considered the worst chicken parm in existance.