White Noise

There’s an emotion only unlocked when you live in a house with multiple stories. I call it “the stair emotion” and it’s when you realize the object you need is on the other side of yet another trip up and down those goddamn stairs. It’s the closest I get to transcending the desire for material goods. Maybe I don’t need that notebook. Maybe I don’t need anything.

The best part of getting older is aging out of the demographic that gets killed in horror movies. I am now the age of the kooky local at the gas station who warns the band of college kids not to go to Camp Murderblood

Tucker and Dale VS Evil winning once again

goo goo dolls if they were in dune: and i don’t want the worm to see me

love wins

can anyone find the satiric newspaper headline that might have been something other than the onion that was along the lines of “‘This Is More Relevant/Timely Than Ever,’ Says Theater Company About to Put on Oldass Play Worse Than Has Ever Been Done Before”

The Clarifier would like to make just one more comment

Two men on a mission, united in purpose.