Commander Shepard is always relevant.
This Saturday morning, instead of being a contributing member of society and spending my sparing, but still hard-earned money on services and goods rendered that would help the economy, I’m rendered to a miserable, spiteful, cauldron of hatred, sitting outside of a Starbucks brogging angrily.
I hate to base an entire year off of a recent string of bad luck, events, and happenstance, but if this week is any indication of what the rest of 2010 has in store for me, I think I’d be better off jumping off Old Rag’s summit next weekend when I have the chance.
