Keep your money in your shoe

I got some harebrained idea to compose a Big, Meaningful Post on Art yesterday and I kinda lost steam halfway. In the meantime, go read other, better stuff like That's Just the Booze Talking, who's advising a friend on how to land a man:

And don’t talk about a dead parent on a first date. You may well recall how we once got c*ck blocked from beyond the grave by this girl’s dead mother. Seriously, one minute we’re about to make our first foray into her Shameful Baby Area, the next minute it’s as if a pair of spectral hands were slapping away at our tumescence like a Thalidomide baby trying to play Gnip Gnop. Turns out the day we got together for drinks was the 3rd anniversary of her moms going peace out like Hoon. If nothing else, this brought into question the girl’s ability to use a calendar.