Podcasts, Netflix, and all the other ways we’re currently squandering our precious lives.
Chester Bennington did what we were all trying to do. He turned his trauma into art. He did it in a way that seemed like it was meant for us, like he was one of us losers. Because it was real to him.
This is as close as I’ve ever gotten to gushing about an album on this blog.
In this edition: Raspberry beer is very nice, and another one I don’t remember because of all of the other beer I drank.
From A to (Jay-)Z, here’s a roundup of the month’s new releases.
That big drum roll part isn’t as good as you all think that it is.
Finally, we have a reason to say “Juicin'” and have it not be slang for “murdering two people”.
The Fraudsters' Almanac 