I don't have anything to follow a brutal murder, but (no offense to Greasemonkey) I'm glad the video isn't working, because that's the IDNNTST of my Monday morning.
You constantly revile me with your singular lack of vision. Be aware, there is an essential truth and beauty in all things. From the death throes of a speared gazelle to the damaged smile of a freeway homeless. But that does not mean that the invisibility of something implies its lack of being. Though simpleton babies foolishly believe the person before them vanishes when they cover their eyes during a hateful game of peek-a-boo, this is a fallacy. And so it is that the unseen dusty build up that accumulates behind the DVD shelves in the rumpus room exists also. This is unacceptable.
I could not understand how the man behind Grizzly Man and other such gripping, poetic movies could also have made Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans. But somehow with this letter, it all becomes clear.
Last night, right before bedtime, I found a pic online where it said that for instant skills in beatboxing you should just cup your hands in front of your mouth and repeat "boots and cats and boots and cats". From since the moment I woke up today, a small voice has been going "boots and cats" in the back of my head. Thank you, brain, for today's earworm.