So this is like my 10th post for today. I'm trying to make up for the recent lull.
I'm currently reading The Night of the Gun by David Carr and it makes me wonder: do you think people ever purposefully charge full force into addiction so that they can eventually sober up and cash in on a memoir about their experiences? I don't think Carr did that here, but it's interesting to think about. How much are some people willing to throw away to get a book deal? I think all book deals should warrant some amount of blood, sweat and tears, but I'm seriously curious if anyone ever purposefully fucked up or did something strange and shocking so that they could later be paid to write about it.
So the road trip begins Saturday with a (short) 7 hour trek to Cleveland. I probably won't be able to update J&J much so you will be in the shockingly bony yet able clutches of one Joshua Becker for about two weeks. I will, however, be updating the road trip blog.
In other news, Michael Phelps looks like a Ken doll: