Stringer and what remains of his Christmas present
The holidays are upon us. It is the happiest time of the year, if you take the word of a snowman or an elf. Statistically, it is also the most popular time to kill yourself. Our is a roller-coaster society, incrementally dragging itself to the highest peaks only to hurtle down again. Today is Friday, and I have approximately 20 hours of unsupervised free time before I have to get on a plane for 90 minutes, wait seven hours in the Denver airport, and get on a plane again. Our links are a corresponding garden of delights/trials, alternating between the miserable and the sublime. Won’t you put your arms over your head and go woo! before they are severed by a low-hanging cable with me?