Friday's quick thoughts

Who doesn't want to read about typography? Oh...most of you? Oh. Go here anyway. It's McSweeney's. You'll feel cultured.

When the police officer was inspecting the apartment after the felonius punk stole our stuff (I have to admit, I like the moniker), he swabbed Greg's and my cheek to get a DNA sample. Then he took samples from palm prints on our sliding glass doors...this all happened at 4ish in the morning, of course. The lesson here? Now I'm on the books, and can't commit all of these crimes. Also I don't have a piano anymore.

Best time to be born? Well, without getting too specific, 5:30ish AM, late January in the mid 1980s. Wait, what? A bleaker life outlook? Oh man...