It’s a slow news day. Prematurely celebrating St. Patrick’s Day, Ben is drunk. Meanwhile, Brownlee has discovered with a dawning sense of horror that after years of living in Ireland, he is incapable of getting drunk… the font that inks his pen, the mucus that lubricates his Muse. As the world and Boing Boing watches, we find ourselves abashed and silent.
the kid from brooklyn
re serving over there? Fuckin liquid gold? A fucking cup of coffee and a piece of pound cake, seven dollars? Stick it up your ass, fuckin Starbucks.”