Nihilist Assault Group

In many ways, this week is soberin' up time: from the schadenfreude fiesta of Fitzgerald's investigation, from the drunken stupidity of All Hallows' Eve and related excuses for inebriation, from baby niece-related giddiness over the weekend, from the pleasant illusion that I have nothing better to do than blog.

So: if for whatever reason you, too, feel the harsh autumn light today as a slap in the face, why not join me? Let's put on a pot of espresso, drink lots of fluids, perhaps take a multivitamin, spin a Clifford Brown record, and take a hot shower. Then let's don our unitards, do some leglifts, follow up with some kneebends, and complete a thirty-minute Jazzercise routine. Then let's all get cracking & tackle meaninglessness with our customary abandon.