"What's happened to me?" he thought. It was no dream.

Franz Kafka; b. 07/03/88!

(I am a fancy Bachelor of English, in addition to my current titles of web logger, student of etymology, Lakeshow defender, and know-it-all.)

"Our art is a way of being dazzled by truth:
the light on the grotesquely grimacing retreating face is true,
and nothing else."

Kafka by Warhol.

- The way my body refuses to gain weight even though I eat ice cream for dinner

- Multiple conversations with dudes at bars who wear sports gear because of the pretty colorways and not because they like the actual sports team

- America totally fucking electing a BLACK MAN PRESIDENT*

- Waking up and realizing all over again that Ron-Ron is a Laker:

One and all, Kafkaesque moments in the life of your trusty web logger.



*worth double points due to excessive Kafkaesque-ism, Kafkaesque-ery.