And now I want to slit my wrists.

Exactly.
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Shitposting since 2005
This is why not giving a fuck is so key. This is why it’s going to save the world. And it’s going to save it by accepting that the world is totally fucked and that’s all right, because it’s always been that way, and always will be.” ~ Mark Manson, from The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck
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With bonus added Tobey McGuire! (Both of whom IMHO were at their peak fuckability in 2000’s Wonder Boys.)
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To be filed under: Getting Old Is Hell
About a year ago my right shoulder started hurting whenever I had to reach for something on a high shelf or turn off a ceiling fan. I ignored it because it wasn’t debilitating, but as often happens when you reach a certain age, it didn’t magically go away, and of late has become a pretty painful affair, causing me to wince whenever I reach for my wallet in my right hip pocket. I saw my doctor last month about it, she sent in an order for an x-ray and I finally got around to getting it done last Friday. The results were as more or less as expected. At least it isn’t a torn rotator cuff.

“Your shoulder x-ray shows that there are no fractures or dislocations but you do have mild to moderate degenerative changes in the right shoulder. Degenerative changes are considered similar to arthritis type changes. If you would like to try physical therapy we can do that and if your symptoms persist then we can consider MRI.”
What the fuck is physical therapy going to accomplish if this is a “degenerative change” other than to drain my wallet?
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There were no sex classes. No friendship classes. No classes on how to navigate a bureaucracy, build an organization, raise money, create a database, buy a house, love a child, spot a scam, talk someone out of suicide, or figure out what was important to me. Not knowing how to do these things is what messes people up in life, not whether they know algebra or can analyze literature.” ~ William Upski Wimsatt
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If Wolverine can heal/regenerate his wounds, then no matter what, Wolverine is uncircumcised.
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Last Friday. Leaving work I noticed it was different: the quality of light, the temperature, that hazy-overcast so indicative of autumn in Phoenix. It was like someone flipped a switch and summer was finally gone. It’s one of the things I’ve always liked about this time of year in Arizona. One day it’s summer, the next it’s not.
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