They were probably out looking for shovels.

Dear TxDOT:

Although I know you probably receive thousands of these letters, I wanted to write to you and express my gratitude for the complete closure of State Highway 121 this morning. I understand that the world does not run on a strictly 9-to-5 schedule and that, even though today is Saturday, many people in the area still had to go to work this morning. While the construction crew for this segment of highway was not actually among our number, the hundred or so of us stopped on the convenient one-lane detour you provided knew that, for the half hour we spent practically motionless, unnecessarily burning up a limited and expensive resource, they were with us in spirit. I would also like to compliment you on your decision not to announce this closure in advance, as I am sure that the waves of commuters adjusting their routes would have caused an undue increase of literally dozens of vehicles on each of several nearby roads that would otherwise have gone nearly untraveled at that hour of the morning. It is precisely this kind of thoughtful planning that makes you one of the finest Departments of Transportation in all of Texas.

Again, thanks for making me late. You owe me like $7.50.

Love,

Jake

P.S. I don't mean to complain, but we could really use a few more medians around here. Yesterday, I saw at least two different vehicles attempting to make a left turn rather than simply driving several more blocks and making a U-turn.

His name is Dennis Harnden.

If you came here today looking to be entertained, you're going to be incredibly disappointed, so you should probably just come back tomorrow. Except don't, because then you'll miss what might end up being the one serious, real thing I ever write here, which is partly because this kind of thing is never, ever allowed to happen again, ever.

​Two days ago, a friend died very unexpectedly. I don’t really know what to say. I don’t know how to write an obituary. I am very not good at death. I ​am good at coming up with a bunch of words that sound really great in my head, then completely losing my shit when I go to say them out loud or write them down, forgetting everything, and blubbering something incoherent or inappropriate. Usually both. This is probably happening right now. I’m also really good at getting drunk, which is not happening right now, but I kind of wish it were. Like the rest of my family, I may not be well-equipped to deal with loss, but I can avoid the shit out of it.

​I’m not going to get all philosophical and try to manufacture some kind of meaning for something that makes no fucking sense. I don’t always know why shit happens, or if it even happens for a reason at all. If it does, it’s beyond me. What I do know is that the world is a little bit darker now, and it’s going to feel like a really shitty place for a while because, frankly, it kind of is. My heart goes out to everyone who knew him, and although anything I can possibly do seems hopelessly insignificant, I'm going to try anyway. He was one of the most hilarious people I've ever met, and a much better snark than I'll ever be. This isn't half as good a tribute as he deserves, but it's the best I know how to give.

Dennis, we miss the hell out of you already.

All your spam are belong to us.

Sometimes I watch The Matrix see all the crazy technological advances we're making and worry that we're teaching the machines to enslave us. Then I read the comments in my spam filter and realize that that will probably never happen because the machines:

a) Are really stupid. They don't even understand syntax, which is kind of critical for artificial intelligence. Have we invented artificial stupid? Because we really don't need any more of that.
b) All work for pharmaceutical companies and don't want to enslave us so much as sell us boner pills and weight-loss drugs.

Pretty much, you have to read it because I don't even know how to begin to explain it. It's the kind of thing that would give the Turing test a stroke:

Acne is known as pimples, lumps, and plugged pores that be published on the false impression, neck, face, shoulders, and caddy areas.
There is not undivided major element that causes acne and it is stimulated during hormones, put under strain, nubility, sustenance, and other factors.
The ra can also commonplace old hat the outer layer of your hide encouraging your sebaceous glands to start producing more oil.
No one is unsusceptible to fell blemishes when the conditions are there.
Now you have a defense against acne with Proactiv.

There are easily understood things your can do to prevent your acne from occurring in the first place.

In perpetuity, be gentle with your face. Unstintingly that is too vehement or stone-cold can trigger your sebaceous glands to bring up grease and hamper up your skin.
You should wash your exterior at least twice a lifetime to save up the bacteria levels to a minimum.
Do not against refer to your face. The hands bear the most bacteria and you do not to abode the bacteria here.
You should also lave your hands numberless times a day. This settle upon pinch keep the bacteria levels not up to par in case you patch up your face.
Benefit of women who function makeup don lubricant sovereign or hypo-allergenic makeup by reason of susceptible skin.
Men should use antiseptic products in spite of razor long that are designed to empty remove the pores and moisturize the skin.

It's like a thesaurus threw up on me. I need to go wash my exterior. At least twice.

This kind of bullying will not be tolerated.

Tropical Storm Bret is kind of an asshole. Apparently, so are 2 other people.

I'm betting that they're sycophantic henchmen, like 
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Or Crabbe and Goyle.

I tried to get an owl to deliver this, but they *so* don't get the Internet.

Dear All of Texas, But Mostly Tarrant County:

If you have a car, you can be a wizard! There's a magic wand attached to the left side of your steering wheel. If you wave it, you can create a magical light show! If you wave it downward, flashing lights will appear on the left side of your car. The incantation for this spell is I'm going to turn left. If you wave it upward, they'll appear on the right side of your car (that spell is I'm going to turn right). You don't have to say the spells out loud when you wave the wand, but you can if you need to. Here's a picture of the spellbook I found them in:

It's totally the same as Hogwarts.

It doesn't matter what kind of vehicle you have, they all have this magic. Even the ones made in Texas.

P.S. If you don't believe in magic because it's evil, it's totally not a magic wand; it's a Satan repeller. But you still have to use it because it's the rules and you go to hell if you don't.

This is from Leviticus, probably.

P.S. This is real.

So, this is happening. Again. It's like the Halley's Comet of social media hoaxes lucky breaks for everyone on the Internet:

"Its official. Signal at 12:20 it even passed on tv. Facebook will start charging this summer. If you copy this on your wall your icon will turn blue and Facebook will be free for you. Please pass this message if not your count will be deleted. P.s. this is real, the icon turns blue. Please put this as your status."

Also, in case you missed the last one, the Apocalypse is scheduled to happen again on October 21st. If you post this as your Facebook status, you will be teleported to heaven, and Bill Gates will send you a check for $144,000. This is totally real. I promise.

It's brilliant how Facebook saves all that money by not having a marketing team or any sort of communications department. It's a testament to the power of social media that they can put their message in the hands of just one orthographically-challenged tween and watch it spread, like the T-virus, until everyone has been exposed to it. Also, props to them for announcing the new charges mere days after the launch of Google+, which may be their first serious competitor. Well played, Facebook.

If I ever start a company, I'm totally copying Facebook's business plan:
1. Totally steal somebody else's idea, probably.
2. Get 600 million customers.
3. Send all important announcements as typo-laden chain messages. IMPORTANT: Remember to say "this is real" so people know it's not fake.
4. Make everybody pay, except if they post a message for you once, ever. Then it's free.

Until it suddenly isn't.

This isn't even "think horses, not zebras"; this is "think horses, not squid."

I went to the doctor yesterday because, after spending a week in North Dakota, I once again caught the Midwest Superfuck Bacteria, which is generally comparable to having your lungs, throat, and sinuses filled with homemade napalm. When I say "doctor," of course, I actually mean the broke people's version, the Hope-It's-Not-An-Emergency Room—Urgent Care.

Based on the fact that I've ever been sick before, I could say immediately that it was an upper respiratory infection (also based on the fact that it was my lungs and throat that were burning and full of shit), so I figured that it would be pretty quick—look in the ears, listen to the chest, prescribe some antibiotics, send me on my way. Based on the fact that I've ever been to Urgent Care before, I should have known better than to think it would be so simple.

Here's the rough timeline of my experience:

12:00 PM
Registered for web check-in, described symptoms of upper respiratory infection. Said I lived 10 minutes away.

12:15 PM
Received call saying I should come to Urgent Care because the doctor would be ready to see me in ten minutes.

12:25 PM
Arrived at Urgent Care. Filled out unnecessary number of forms, considering I'd been there before and also gave them all this information online ten minutes prior.

12:45 PM
Was called back. Temperature registered at 98.8°. Answered questions regarding symptoms I'd already described in web check-in. Said "no" to questions about fever.

1:30 PM
Doctor finally fucking shows up, looks in ears, listens to chest. Then she tells me she's going to order a chest x-ray and blood work because I have "all the symptoms." Of what? Apparently it's their policy to order all this unnecessary shit for patients who have a fever and chest pain, because they hate Occam's Razor.

Me: I've never had all that done in almost 30 years.
Her: Well, have you been here before?
Me: Like three times. For exactly this.
Her: Because it's actually our policy to do that for patients with a fever and chest pain.
Me: I don't have those.
Her: The nurse said you did.
Me: What? I was 98.8°. That's not a fever.
Her: Well, no, it's not by our standards, but you told her you had a fever.
Me: I said "no" when she asked that. Is that what "no" means? I'm pretty sure I just have an upper respiratory infection.
Her: Well, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to prescribe some antibiotics? Have you ever taken Amoxicillin?
Me: Um, yes.
Her: Is that what you want?
Me: I want the proper treatment that will make me get better.
Her: I'm going to put you on some Amoxicillin. Do you need a work note?
Me: Yes.
Her: Which kind?
Me: *has a stroke*
Her: Work or school?

I never realized that you could just go to the doctor and tell them what you think you have and what you want them to give you for it. Yeah, I have whatever it is that means you need morphine and medicinal marijuana. Thanks.