Timbuktu

Devoted Readers,

I urge you to travel to Timbuktu as soon as possible. If you are able, try the local wine (1980 or earlier vintage only, mind you!). But for God's sake, do NOT eat the pickled wolverine feet. They give you horrific diarrhea. 

Yours in pain,

Rupert

Window or Aisle? The devil is in the details

It's one of life's fundamental questions, along with "Should I brush my teeth tonight?" and "Escalator or elevator?" The question I'm referring to? First, reader, you need to learn how to god damn read, it's in the post title. That question, again for those of you who are mental midgets, is "Do I take the window or aisle?"  This is mostly geared towards airplanes, as train travel is for the communist and pro-Chive crowd. Also, I hate traveling on ground whenever possible, so whatever. 

Where was I? Oh, right, aisle vs window. The window I feel provides more privacy as you are now only potentially losing one arm rest to a mouth breathing Neanderthal, while having sweet nothingness (read: uncomfortably curved inside of plane) to rest your head on. Aisles also get at least one arm rest, but nothing to put your head on (although I've rested my head on one or three bosoms after getting sufficiently snookered on red eyes from Paris to Newark and subsequently charming my seat mate, most of whom were female). 

But to me, dear reader, the aisle seaters get the best perk of all: sweet, blessed aisle space to stretch your legs. God gave you those legs to extend, not to bunch up like a horrible arachnid. I've found myself most refreshed after being able to stretch out (and of course after the bosom resting, if you can get it). So next time, opt for the aisle. 

Voluntarily choosing the middle for the increased socialization opportunities makes you the worst person ever created and thus my mortal enemy. 

Happy travels,

Rupert Chang

PEDs and The Cookie Monster

Performance-enhancing drugs (PEDs) are everywhere these days.

Whatever the industry, PEDs are a factor. Whether we're talking about professional football players or IT dipshits in Denver, everyone is on PEDs.

I don't give a shit, frankly. When you think about it, every substance you put into your body is either going to enhance or diminish performance. I've heard salmon is pretty good for you, but nobody's going around calling that a performance enhancing drug.

Lance Armstrong got busted for blood doping. Lance Armstrong is an asshole and the noose finally tightening around his enhanced neck was one of the greatest days of my life, but let's be real here: if everyone on the Tour was doing it, don't you think ... eh, fuck it. Fuck Lance Armstrong.

If we really want a level playing field, maybe we should require all human beings to eat and drink the same things every day. My fat coworker must think I'm a performance-enhancing cheat because I eat salads for lunch instead of a bucket of cream. And he's not wrong, you guys. He's not wrong at all.

I just injected 4 CC's of heroin into my thigh.

Love,

Ethan

Summer

I write today of summer. Remember when we were children and summer was a magical time of frivolity, late nights, attempting to fornicate, and losing money at poker? Do you remember, friend, when it meant vacations and living life with an extra sense of carpe diem? Do you recall those trips to the lake and almost drowning after having 3 Smirnoff Ice (r) malted beverages and jumping off a speeding boat?

Now, as adults, we trudge through summer like every other miserable season. Fall brings football, winter brings mulled cider, spring brings bird watching, but what does summer now bring? Regret. And a reminder that you have herpes after all the previous summers of fornicating. That reminds me, I have to schedule another appointment with Dr. Rosenfeld's office.

Yours in regret,

Rupert Chang