Wrapped Up Like A Douche

Hell Comes to Oaktown
So we moved. It was nuts. I'll put a slideshow up eventually or something. The moment that encapsulated it all for me, I think, was when WULAD Wregular and moving-assistant extraordinaire Michael stepped back for a moment from the aged behemoth of a fold-out couch-bed we were attempting to somehow get up a set of brick stairs, over an iron railing and into the apartment, took a deep breath, and said, "Man, fuck this couch."

Expect a gradual trickling increase in posting with a return to full speed by the end of the month as my life is slowly removed from cardboard and duct-tape and reassembled. I know most of you people are only here for naked Jeanne Zelasko pictures anyway.

P.S. Pray to the Cat Gods for my main man, who had three teeth pulled this weekend and is now coming home to a different zip code.