when you in all seriousness refer to your apartment as the Batcave.
When bathing or getting dressed reaches that uncomfortable medium, somewhere in limbo between noteworthy event, and outright spectator sport. Each cycle of lather rinse repeat is worthy of noting on your personal calendar or worse yet
SCRAPBOOK.—– Let’s CELEBRATE, ARRRRRIIIIBBBBA!!!
Im in deep with a bookie,
I recently took up a bet with myself. A bet born the bastard child of boredom and depression, to see how long I could go without bathing. I topped out at three days or so, and I swear I could have gone more if it weren’t for the confounded humidity. It was all over as soon as I could smell my own balls when I sat down on the couch.
Apparently Even I Have to Draw the Line Somewhere. I can no longer say with conviction that my depravity holds no bounds.
to be continued…
- Oh You Know, Just A Giant Spider Eating A Snake (geekologie.com)
- Spider-Man, Batman & Wonder Woman Visit Sick Children At Sinai Hospital (baltimore.cbslocal.com)
- Dick Sprang “The Secrets of the Batcave” Lithograph (firewireblog.com)
- Not another Gmail outage post (just the best darn tweet about it) (royal.pingdom.com)
- There is always that one guest who won’t leave the party (ndlarusso.wordpress.com)