I’ve decided to go Thoreau. Or Emile Hirsch a la Into The Wild, without the trust fund or Oxfam donations or the nature shit. And there will definitely be no berries. No, my desire to live in an enchanted forest stops entirely at the theoretical phase. My feelings towards the great outdoors are still best summarized by the great poet, Some E Cards, who once said “I am outdoorsy in that I like to get drunk on patios.”

I’ve decided to start the divesting of my earthly belongings with the recycling (+1) of about a decades worth of lady magazines. I also went to Target and bought a Buddha fountain and some lucky bamboo. Every night before going to bed I pour out a little of my water (plastic, bottled, sorry) to my homies. This should start me on the path to Saint Jolie-dom right?

EDIT: Please note on the far left that is in fact an issue of Rolling Stone with Howard Dean on the cover. Remember Howard fucking Dean? Holy shit I am old.

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