Dear Krystal Chili Cheese Pups,

Despite the fact that I devour you at 3:30am on a near-weekly basis and am growing tired of waking up next to your empty boxes, I remain in awe of your deliciousness.

Love,

J.M.

PS. If you make me fat I'll fucking shoot you.

A Plea to the Shoely Challenged

Is anybody else sick of seeing dudes in flip-flops? I understand wearing them to run out to the store or something--but 80% of the guys I went to college/go to law school with wear the same pair of flip flops everywhere, every single day. It's disgusting. They also actually wear these things to go out. The same raggedy, crusty pieces of foam on a daily and nightly basis. Oh, they'll be sure to put on a Polo dress shirt and khaki shorts--only to top off the outift with moldy flip flops. Are you serious?

I mean honestly, who wants to see (and oftentimes have to smell) your rancid feet? Half these clowns have toenails you could dice an onion with. Few things are as repulsive as a hungover, hairy fat slob with big gnarly ass feet stumbling through the law school hallway.

And the shit of it is, some girls actually spend time around some of these chronic toe flossers!! Ladies, please wake up and smell the foot fungus. You're playing a direct role in perpetuating a truly nasty phenomenon.

Sadly, this is my life

Every weeknight around 11:30 or so, I invariably end up in the kitchen and return with this combination (or some variety thereof).

Fun with the Commerce Clause

A fantastically ironic story relating to Heart of Atlanta Motel (the Supreme Court case that blew open the Commerce power and helped bring about the Civil Rights Act of 1964).

The crazy racist owner is still alive and ticking... and causing trouble. What a bastard!

I guess those torts cases really do happen in real life

I was driving on the interstate back to school from Big City the other morning when all of a sudden the car started shaking violently. I looked in the rearview mirror and it was like the thing was clamped in one of those industrial paint can mixers--I couldn't see a damn thing the mirror was shaking so hard. So I slowed from 80ish to about 75, when all of a sudden I heard a loud POP-BAAAAAAAA-THUMP THUMP THUMP and the car started doing things and making foreign noises and assorted thumps I really didn't quite like. Meanwhile I'm attempting to move over to the right side while 18-wheelers are blazing by at intergalactic speeds, leaving gusts that are tossing me all over the place as I clutch the wheel for dear life. I had become like the old hag on the bicycle flying around in the tornado outside Dorothy's window just before she turns into the Wicked Witch (den-de-den-de neh neh, den-de-den-de neh neh!).



Luckily I was fortunate enough to finally get safely over to the shoulder. I stopped the car, got out and took a look...

That's a real-deal blowout right there folks... Miraculously, I only missed one of my morning classes! Oh, and I'm also alive which is good and also somewhat miraculous.