A play-by-play of my path to nausea.
Changing channels. Coming across last 20 minutes of the movie “Juno.” Listening to the almost endless string of folksey-cutesy-singer-songwriter-children’s-music-lyric-ey-sing-songey songs.
Throwing up in my mouth.
The antidotes? The Pixies or a pistol, stat.
Bookmark and share this post:
