People love the ugly and the uninspiring, I guess. They enjoy being angry and shat upon. If all I wanted to do was make money, I'd open a fluorescently lit slaughter house, play an endless loop of Harley engine noise, instruct the employees to insult customers and beat them with gravel filled socks, and serve feces on moldy white bread. But what would I do with all the money I would make? Buy a condo to store my ugly clothes for three months out of the year?
Observations from my favorite BAR
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Things are looking up!-- oh, no, I was wrong.
People love the ugly and the uninspiring, I guess. They enjoy being angry and shat upon. If all I wanted to do was make money, I'd open a fluorescently lit slaughter house, play an endless loop of Harley engine noise, instruct the employees to insult customers and beat them with gravel filled socks, and serve feces on moldy white bread. But what would I do with all the money I would make? Buy a condo to store my ugly clothes for three months out of the year?
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