Thursday Morning Links of… Brett?

Thursday Morning Links of… Brett?

Howdy, howdy. It’s been a weird week, watching karma land all at once. I don’t know which god(s) Trump sacrifices to, but they came through for him bigly. In less political news, I took my older kids to see Despicable Me 4, and I was wildly unimpressed. They threw...

Fill-in Morning Links

Fill-in Morning Links

Good morning my friends, you'll notice that I'm neither Sloopy nor Banjos... and yet, the links must go on. Before we get to them, I'd like to thank everyone who donated. A classier officer of a classier site would have taken the time to drop you a note, but... well,...

Brett set out to find America, the real America, the America of strip malls and serial killers, of butthole waxing and kelp smoothies, of cocaine and maggots. He sought it in the most American part of America—Florida: swamp gas and fever dreams, where love arrives on a rickety boat and leaves when it doesn't have the money for its fourth abortion. Oh, where has Brett gone? He’s drinking at the neck of America’s wang, chewing its foreskin and working its shaft. Brett is becoming legend. Brett can never die. Brett can never die. Brett is America, facedown in his own patriotic puke: the red his blood, the white his stomach lining, and the cold, cold blue his gas station slushie, spiked with coconut rum and tetracycline.

Sunday Morning Linkation

Happy Sunday, y’all. I was reading the garden talk yesterday. I got berries for the first time ever with the help of some bird netting. Peppers from last year. Maters and squash in a few weeks. This happened right up the road. Sad. Eddie Hall ran out of gas against...