In a sentence, Frank is the story of a struggling song writer—in the sense that he’s never written a song—who ends up living in a cabin with a band led by a man who never takes off his papier-mâché head. Continue reading
Over the weekend I went to visit my grandmother in her nursing home. I know I should go more often and I probably would if 9pm were an acceptable time to visit an old person. As it stands, having to wake up an hour early to visit her before I head to work is just difficult enough that not doing it makes me feel the exact amount of terrible required to deem myself a victim of circumstance (“Getting up is so hard, I can’ breathe…blah, blah, blah”) instead of a monster. Continue reading
Back in 2003, I and about 83% of my friends worked at a hotel in the middle of Nowhere, CT. A Minnesota based chain had thrown a franchise out in the woods in hopes of catching some of casino cast-offs on their search for reasonably priced accommodations. I was young and this was my first full-time job, so I learned a lot about how the working world works. I also learned that I can do 7 revolutions in an industrial dryer, but that’s a story for another time.
This story is the Ballad of Bayou Rick.
**THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY**
In my younger days, few things were more important than being able to say “I told you so.” This need burned particularly bright when it came to movies. Nowadays, we dismiss this as hipster bullshit—“Oh yeah, I saw that before it was cool—but back in the videostore era, boasting after finding that sweet nugget of gold was your reward for panning through so much shit. Remember that for every cult movie that thrives, some Lewis and Clark motherfuckers had to watch hundreds of hours of bullshit.
The other day, in violation of my long held belief that anyone who puts lettuce on a pizza is my enemy, I went to California Pizza Kitchen. I was lured from my comfortable conviction by the promise of free food and the fact that I didn’t want to throw a fit in front of a group of co-workers. Also, what if I was wrong? Maybe the last time I went to CPK, my underdeveloped palette was incapable of discerning the subtle nuances of a pizza topped with mayo tossed lettuce.
No, I was right. It sucks.
When I was younger and gave a few more fucks, I stayed out of public restrooms. I was very uncomfortable when I went to the bathroom, so I liked the home field advantage. Plus, moving my business took a decent amount of time and produced some godawful sounds. It was awkward for everyone involved. Continue reading
Yesterday, UNC School of Medicine published a research article in Science Translation Medicine saying that they found evidence that Vertex Pharmaceuticals experimental potentiator drug—the one that is supposed to move the defective CFTR protein—is destabilizing the CFTR protein after the corrector drug fixes it.