This I know: that when I get a new job and the money-stress retreats a bit I am suddenly more tolerant of stuff like Van Morrison and I start driving like an asshole. Also: the plot similarities between Titanic and Avatar become enjoyable, and the visuals truly rapturous, and Truffaut sits in his Netflix red envelope for weeks without me feeling like he needs out. And also I am more likely to order fries with that. PRETTY MUCH MY AESTHETIC DISCERNMENT IS TIED SOMEHOW TO MY VICTIMHOOD.
Gimme another Corona, ese.
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