As a rule, adding a fake mustache and a trench coat to any given scenario will only make it worse. There are precious few situations that are improved upon by such devices, and I'm pretty sure those mostly revolve around public nudity and child abductions.

On an interesting note, Sarah pointed out Shelly's double standard, re: the wife beater/jeans combo. She obviously thinks that Kent looks like a complete knob, but the astute reader may recall that it was that exact same outfit that she found so profoundly fetching on Brighton oh those many months ago. Perhaps she's forgotten. Perhaps she hasn't. Only time will tell.

My first-proper-paycheck-spending-spree has come to a close, and almost all the items I ordered have been shipped. I'll be expecting the first of them to arrive Friday (specifically, a copy of CthulhuTech and a wall scroll for my cubicle) with the rest trickling my way in the days following. The complete collection of Gurren Lagann I plunked down a little over thirty bucks on will probably not arrive until sometime next week. But that's okay. I can have patience. Sometimes.

I suppose I also ought to turn some of my newfound wealth in a billward direction. That's the responsible, adult thing to do. And I think that I'm okay with doing responsible adult things so long as I get to drop some money on crazy-shit leisure items every now and then.

"Responsible adult things" sounds so much more interesting than the subject I was actually addressing, it occurs to me. Well, this is a capitalist economy, after all. Everything's for sale, somewhere.

Here's to wishing you a delicious Turkey Day!