Once upon a time, I waxed stupid on some things that I love. Maintenant, I can do nothing but let that sentimentality pass into the overflowing dustbin of history and, in the grand and majestic tradition of dour romanticism nearly choked to death by the commercialized, shining gunk of the upcoming holiday, drown in abject misery now that The Church of the Ellipsoid Orb* is discontinuing worship services for a few months.
Oh, sure, through streams of painful tears I hear their claim that they'll reopen soon enough, and indeed I know they will, but -- and yet -- sniff -- sigh. No, I will remain strong. In fact, stronger than strong. Stronger than Army Strong®. Stronger even than Chuck Nor -- oh no, no fucking way I'm going there. Every Sunday, I'm going to settle in my Homer-esque ass groove and be zombiefied by something nearly as groovy. Pass the chips. Hey, don't use all the dip! Greedy fuckers.
One last thing: Messrs. Anderson, Winslow, Cribbs, Thomas and Edwards, please, please, please, please, please, please, please don't blow out a knee today. Thanks.
*coined by tomcat, patent pending