tetris

I wrote this on my hand during my morning commute, in large clear letters: "This man's style of playing Tetris reveals his problem with futurity." Then I put my hand on my lap and waited for the man stacking up Tetris rows like so many misaligned layers of Fallingwater to look over at me and notice my message to him. He didn't look over, of course, and instead played the game furiously until very quickly his pile reached the top of his screen, and he exclaimed something like, "Rrrgh!" Sir, when you ignore the cardinal rule of Tetris (don't cover the holes!) you lose very quickly. I wanted him to know how ashamed I was of him, because he looked exactly like my ex-roommate (you know, the one whose girlfriend kept exclaiming, "Joshua! Joshua! Joshua! Joshua! Joshua!" from atop his soiled sheets) who owes me somewhere between $90 and $300.

Also, ELIOT FUCKING SPITZER WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. The details are so sordid. Must you pay for your poke? Can you just penetrate an unpaid intern with a cigar?

I'm going to Georgia for spring break; oh let the bun beat down upon my face.