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This summer was measured in parties. People huddled against each other, desperately attempting to remember places they once knew intimately.

The wind blows through my hair while I smile and dig my boot spurs into the sides of The Working Man. "Giddyup!" I cry. What a fun day it has been, just a shame the cocaine is beginning to wear off.

"Onward to Wall Street, Stempien!"

I have business to conduct.

I haven’t been sleeping that much lately. This doesn’t feel like anything new, but whenever I’m not sleeping I have this tendency to lose temporal sight; I can’t think too much about the future, or too far into the past. They feel like distant forgotten places, stories told to me by wandering vagabonds in exchange for the loose sheqels from my ( Read more... )

Chris Semple would like to share his Summer with you all, but Facebook has the shittiest file manager and it won't let me upload my photos right now.

Chris Semple wants to know how tall you are.

Has anyone else considered organizing their books at home with the dewey decimal system?
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Reading "Morphology of the Folktale." Ch. 1: Vladímir Propp makes fun of his colleagues' inferior classification systems. This book rocks!
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@abbysimons Unrequited love's not so bad. It means you get to love at your leisure.
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If you're on Twitter, set your location to Tehran & your time zone to GMT +3.30. Iranian security forces are hunting for bloggers using location/timezone searches. The more people at this location, the more of a logjam it creates for forces trying to shut down Iranians' access to the internet. Cut & paste & pass it on.