For real, this is a sign of the coming apocalypse. When Britney freaking Spears is the "ideal model" for Pro-Life, you know things have taken a turn. The end is like, so nigh.
Speaking of the end, I've had about enough of Douglas Adams for awhile, and this saddens me. I really love the Guide, and look back upon it with a large amount of affection and reverence. The second book was enjoyable, though not quite it's predecessor's par. The third book took forever for me to get through. I felt like I was army crawling through some sort of thick adhesive for most of the way. It didn't flow, there was not nearly the level of witty intrigue and silliness as found in the other books. I've heard the third is the worst, and I'm hoping that's true. Still, I think I'm going to have to take a sabbatical from my good friend Douglas. It'll be alright, though. I've got Aldo Leopold, Lynne Truss, Aesop, J.K. Rowling, and Hunter S. Thompson to keep me company. Good people.
Anyway, I don't have any class tomorrow! The weekend is on! Shall we celebrate?
Who wants to get rip-roaringly drunk?
I don't really, but I'll watch in amusement.
Never, you horrid lush!
What's your poison?
Gin and Tickynics!
... I'm the tickinated ticker.