mental AM in the A.M.

I woke up this morning to Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road in my head, after strange dreams about ghosts, strange houses, and a demonically troubled pristine FDR era mountain top public park.

logical consistency

Either everyone can marry, or no one can.

Honestly, I'm OK with either.

(no subject)

Fuck, not even 10:30. I've got seven more hours before I can leave to sit in the slow death purgatory of my car in Friday traffic. There's more wrong with all of this than I can think to point out.