Looks to be a lazy Monday as well. So far today, I've watched Long Gone Summer, the Sosa/McGwire 30 for 30 and snarfed some tater tot cheese fries. Next up, I might get around to watching some bad horror movies on Shudder or Netflix, or I might finish off S1 of Whitechapel. Either way, nothing too taxing.

My new ass cushion arrived today. The memory foam on which I have been sitting for the past few years wasn't holding up anymore, so I went hunting for a new soldier on Amazon. It looked bigger in the picture on the site, but I won't know until I unbox it and bestow my can upon its ergonomic contours. It has a gap for my tailbone that I'm hoping will mollify the increasingly strident protests of my hemorrhoid. And if you had told twenty-year-old me that I would one day write those words, I would have blown you off as doomsaying fool and laughed in merry challenge to the Fates to do their worst. For I was young and I had endured, and I was sure I would do so again.

Now I often think it would be kinder if the human lifespan ended at thirty-five, before the long, slow rot of age set it, with arthritis and eroding tooth enamel and brain fog and swollen blood vessels in your ass.

This morning, I was grinding my teeth so hard that I woke myself up. This can't be good. Maybe I need to take a second look at a mouth guard.
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