(no subject)

Do you ever find yourself thinking something like "Joe Dick could totally kick Hugh Dillon's ass," and then stop and try to work out what's most intensely wrong about that thought?

Dude, therapy is the coolest thing ever.

A) It's apparently still free,
B) I got an evening appointment for next time, so I will actually get to eat lunch on my lunch break all five days next week, no bus-car-car-bus adventures required, and
C) K cracks my shit up. ( I think she gets it. )