What would YOU do for a Klondike Bar?

No, really. I want to know.

Lightbulbs were going out all around my apartment today. As if conspiring to get back at me for all the times I've smirked at the blind people trying to sell me discount replacement bulbs. In the irritating dimness of a half-lit room, I shake my fist.

Los Angeles has made me really love driving at night. When the roads are clear and the freeways are speedy and I can drive and ruminate and not keep my eyes locked on the brakelights of the car in front of me (I know you're not supposed to do that), I feel nearly at peace. I still wonder about all the buildings and what goes on inside of them, but I have less time to be consumed by it. They fly by faster when I'm breaking all manner of velocity laws.

I was once new here.