As far as music festivals go, it wasn’t too bad. The traffic wasn’t too terrible and it was hot but I’m from a hot place and it wasn’t oppressively crowded yet. It didn’t get crazy scene-y until the last couple of years I went.

In my family, often people are referred to by relation: “little brother” or “cousin” or “niece.” It’s very confusing when there are multiple folks that fit the bill if you don’t know the context clues or inflection.

1) “Unless you’re in a monastery”

It was out of place for how those characters regularly spoke. It was jarring for the one character because I believe he was in a work meeting of some sort when he said it. It was jarring for Watley (the astronaut) because it contrasted so wildly with his normal diction and tone, which you get a good sense of because…

Because people are monsters. It was some dude who was in the middle of a crowd waiting for a band to start and decided he was just going to pee right there and be done with it—several feet were peed on that day. Horrifying.

I quite enjoyed Coachella in the early days, but I don’t think any act could convince me to do another one. Maaaaaaybe Portishead, but that’s a big maybe.

I would like to know that you had some sort of emotion while being stranded on another planet, like maybe fear or loneliness, but that was asking for too much, I guess

K.

Masons too. And fraternities. They both elicit a double-take.

You’d have to ask the author. That’s a better venue for your grandstanding.

Smart!

For me (and it seems the original commentary), it’s not about word belonging to anyone. It’s about how it’s used in American vernacular.

3. Ghetto

I read in an article that she’s supposed to be British by birth but raised in America (I missed the beginning so I figured it came up then, but maybe not?). I’d be more jarred but the lack of a British inflection, but accent adoption is weird like that so it works for me.

He got all that and more than he bargained for! He has also never done it again.

Now, stealing the occasional french fry is a different story, but even then you should ask first.

My passwords make me seem like I’m some kind of savant who can remember long strings of letter/number/symbol combos. But they’re mostly lyrics to semi-obscure songs with various shortcuts, inflections, and symbol substitutes—like some mundane lyric in a random Lords of Acid B-side (that’s a trick—there are no…

Yep. A clear red flag for problems with boundaries.

100% justified.

Not them hookers either. Stay offa my plate!