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People who are regulars at bars are the kind of people who would be in Washington D.C. on Christmas Day. While the majority of the capital's millennial population go on bar crawls and Yelp “The Ten Best Places to Eat a Scone” 50 weeks a year, they have a middle American suburb to return to on the holidays. But because we Regulars aren’t sampling D.C and aren’t existing in a place long enough to Instagram it we are left to pick up the crumbs at Christmastime. We gather here every Thursday. Even if a Thursday is December 25th.

Of course I still know your face.  New York is a small town. We aren’t just using Tinder or on Tinder, we are Tinder. We are charter members, the elders, the original gangsters looking for love in all the wrong radiuses.

We’re all on line together.

Thanks 4 the mmrz.

Nihilists on Twitter may disagree but the New Year isn’t just another day. A birthday isn’t just another day. The universe is laid out cyclically so I one ought to live in a cycle. Give me every Monday, the first days of the month, New Year’s Day.  Imagining life as a never ending string of boxes laid out side by side like existential dominos tumbling to a perpetual tomorrow is technically correct. But not nothing else on the planet lives like that. The morning resets and trees reset and the stars reset and Hailey’s Comet will be back into view for eighteen minutes 700 years from now.   But it does come back around. The universe is a Radiohead fan: everybody leaves when they get the chance and this is my chance. Take the chance to start again at one.

"Our proximity to whiteness does not address our trust problem and I’m comfortable not pretending it does. If I’m supposed to be afraid of myself, I can give you the reasons all by myself,  without repeating a Puritan taking the reins from the hands of an angry God. I just don’t think righteousness looks like prom night in Utah."