
Is there a god of Cars?
God the Creator, Mitsubishi the Manufacturer.
God the Creator, Mitsubishi the Manufacturer.
I lie and say that I’ve bought chairs and they’ll take a while to ship. The dust settles in my cart again.
There’s some aspect of being human, some primal need for face-to-face connection and physical contact that no amount of DMing, texting, or phone calls can fill.
Not even twenty four hours after the moment, thoughts of all the next steps had already derailed my joy.
Knowing that a man who’s well on his way to becoming a household name internationally loves the same baseball team as you has to be a good feeling.
The pet clinics around me don’t even have veterinarians on staff that work with fish.
There are simply too many games to play, and they just keep making them!
The winter was long. It was bitter this year. Wasn’t it?
Call it shedding my “a pleasure to have in class” skin.
What Thunderbolts* represents is faith rewarded, a return (even briefly) to a tradition of blockbuster competence that seemed lost to a proliferation of nightmarishly digital and dumbly unfunny slop.