People of Earth, how are you?

It's been two whole weeks since I last sent one of these out, and I'm sure you missed me as much as I missed you. I've come to really enjoy writing this thing, if only because it gives me an excuse to put off working on my hot mess of a book for a morning.

Thanks to everyone who's reached out and given me feedback about the newsletter. It helps me feel like I'm not just an old man yelling at a cloud.

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On we go!

From The Blog

If you're like me, you're constantly pondering the end of the world as we know it. As I write that sentence, I'm thinking I need to get out of the house more, or maybe I'm listening to too much REM.

ANYWAY, there's no better reminder of our certain demise than when a neighborhood girl writes an ad-libbed song about the Second Coming.

Read JESUS IS COMING BACK on the blog HERE.

Early Bird

I don't care what the witches who track solstices and equinoxes say, summer's over, folks. Target filled its shelves with halloween decorations, basic white bitches are drinking pumpkin spice lattes. Hell, I've seen Oktoberfest beers out since mid-July.

And despite Labor Day not being until Monday, my wife and kids have been in school for two weeks. Yes, that means I get the house and the wifi all to myself, but it also means Melinda's alarm goes off at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m.

On the first day of school, I got up with Melinda and the kids so I could take the requisite first day photos. But since the sun wasn't up, they looked like shit—both the kids AND the photos.

I was under the impression that as I got older, I'd naturally wake up earlier. My parents used to get up between 4:30 and 5, and they told me once I had kids, I'd spring right out of bed. 30 years later, they're somehow getting up at 3 in the morning, and I'm still dragging ass at 9.

I don't care what Ben Franklin said about early risers. Why are we listening to him anyway? Sure, he discovered electricity or whatever, but didn't he also bang everything that moved?

I'm taking a stand here. Unless the sun is up, don't wake me.

Social Media Ad of the Week

A few weeks ago, I shared that the Instagram algorithm decided I wasn't pooping well enough and started serving ads for things like Colon Broom, a drink that helps me "poop like a winner."

Recently, the algorithm has doubled down on intestinal spring cleaning. Now I'm ALSO getting ads for Inno Supps, a company that sells an entire line of products designed firehose your gut.

As with Colon Broom, the strategy with Inno seems to be be the same: beautiful, fit people who are SHOCKED at how much shit was in them! They also really like the google-eyed poop emoji, which is just disturbing.

You really want to get people to buy this shit? Start fear mongering. Remind them that actor and American hero John Wayne died with 40 POUNDS of impacted feces in his colon. DON'T DIE LIKE THE DUKE, should be the tagline.

Or what about Elvis? The fucking king of rock and roll died on the toilet! SHIT KILLED THE KING. DON'T LET IT KILL YOU.

Now THAT product? I'd buy it in a heartbeat.

My Favorite Things

Watch: I haven't had a whole lot of time for leisure activities lately, but I did get to check out the new Netflix documentary, Trainwreck: Woodstock '99.

It's a great three-part miniseries on the absolute shitshow that was supposed to commemorate the 30-year anniversary of the original, but ended up being a weird money grab full of rapey bros and contaminated water supplies.

The doc is drawing criticism because some feel it lets the concert organizers off the hook, but I didn't feel that way. It seemed pretty clear to me these guys were out to monopolize on one of the greatest festivals in history and ended up exploiting their audience to make a buck.

I also came away with a newfound respect for Limp Bizkit, who didn't give a FUCK that the fans were tearing the place apart while they played. Well done, Fred Durst. Maybe I'll give Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water another more objective listen.

Obligatory Kid Pic

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