I am the one-armed woman today, my limb is dead. Yesterday’s flu shot was to avoid a 500 clam health insurance deductible. It’s weird to intentionally inject yourself with a disease. I hope it wasn’t the superbug.
Needles around the office sent everyone in some sort of small emotional tizzy, it was really rather amusing. NYCish hijinks (both funny and disturbing) were in full effect. Battle wound to the right.
In other news, ever since I stopped reading Love is a Mix Tape 35 pages from the end (so it never would), I’ve been hollering about the greatness of Rob Sheffield. Most of you are already aware as I’ve been a one woman street team for months - just try not to connect to Rob’s impressionistic description of love, loss, honesty, Catholic guilt, and of course, music. But you don’t have to take MY word for it…
Hark! RS readers asked our boy questions, and now he responds - read Rob’s classic Metallica burn, sitcom analysis, Poughkeepsie burrito joint soundtrack, greatest live shows from this year, and the high point of each.
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