When I was in my early 20s, working my first real job for the princely sum of $13.50/hr, I remember the day before the day before payday being the brokest day of the biweekly cycle. I guess the day before payday was easier because thanks to direct deposit, when you woke up in the morning you wouldn’t be broke anymore. But two days out, if you could see the bottom of the peanut butter jar, and you were down to bread heels, that meant that you had two days to regret all the drinks you’d bought for those tawdry, misleading tarts at the bar over the weekend. Or the new video game you’d bought. Anyhow, I looked at our checking account today and, although the balance still has three digits to the left of the dot, I thought, “oh shit, we’re broke”. Not, like, scrounging up a buck from the change in your car or couch to get to work and back broke. Not, like, ketchup on crackers broke. Just broke enough that it causes me anxiety.

Note: The newness of these links is also poor. I think you discussed all of them in the H&H post, but I can’t find any I like better.

Researchers create zombie pig brains. “This is not a living brain, but it is a cellularly active brain.” — So in other words, a politician

From the OMWC/Mexican Sharpshooter realm: While I admire this guy trying to fulfill his wife’s fantasy, I don’t think forcing some dude to bang her at gunpoint is cool. That’s a pretty aggressive cuck.

SMOD disappoints.

Whycome they don’t talk about the women running for President? Because more exposure is not going to aid Kamala Harris or Elizabeth Warren? h/t OMWC

 

In lieu of our usual musical selection, have pitcher Colin McHugh’s “moment of zen” from last night (updated)