Big boots. Word nerd. Not so recent undergraduate, Chicago post-Bay Area parting. Bourbon charmer, beer baroness. Unapologetic vice-ridden slow-geek. Two-timing extensive public transit with back to the land small agriculture. Library vigilante, gender derelict, closet formalist. Ambition without self-importance. Books, beats, baking, a set of brakes. Wrestling with growing up angels and emerging from bike accidents.
I swear to God, skinny pale twee fair whitegirls in whatever racistass cultural appropriating nonsense you are choosing to wear while skipping across every single street near my office at the end of the commute, I DO NOT CARE how tiny or stoned or tripped out you are, I WILL RUN YOU OVER WITH MY AMAZING RACING TIRES IF YOU DO NOT GTFO OF MY WAY.
This post brought to you by I am too old for all of this damn shit.
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