Social Distance

Minimal physical interaction with the world
Six feet distance at all times
Lots of phone calls and texts

Grocery shopping once a week
Eating simple
Two good meals a day

Working from home
Nice music, smells, and vibe
Productive blocks of solitude interspersed with video calls
And conversations with Amy

Running
Gives the day its heartbeat
Sweet fresh air &
Sunshine &
Rhythm

Taking in a whole lotta internet
The roni
The man with the giant dong
The world might end but the memes will be spicy
Day trading $SQQQ

Each moment comes one at a time, just like always.

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Animal Style

Animal style is being active, every day. Move by default.

Animal style is spending time barefoot.

Animal style is moving like a cat, working like a dog.

Animal style is eating only when you’re hungry, and then eating well.

Animal style is eating meat, not donuts.

Animal style is instinct and intuition. Use the thinking mind to train your animal mind, but never lose your animal energy.

Animal style is quick, strong, relentless.

Animal style is relaxing and recovering when the hunt’s not on. Animals sleep well.

Animal style smells a certain way.

Animals style is hanging with other animals.

With You

With you, I walk in curvy lines, not straight lines. When it’s just me, I go from A to B. Walking with you, we slow down, we stop and hug, we riff back and forth, we decide to go to C instead.

With you, there’s open books and sweatshirts and little notes lying around. Home feels lived in.

With you, I let go of control. We’re figuring it all out together.

We share food and stories and moods.

We play Whitney and Elton John and Mozart.

We go to the same cafe again and again and it never gets old.

Marathoning

Marthoning is an interesting hobby in that the responses you get from people span a wide range.

Some people think it’s impressive, others are indifferent.

And then there’s the people who get angry: “It’s a dumb hobby. The only reason you do it is to brag about it. You only run because you can’t do X.”

As far as I know, nobody ever says these things to you if you have a normal hobby, like reading all the books by a certain author, or tennis.

There’s nothing to do about it, it just is. It’s all grist for the mill.

Running

It’s a mix of conscious, logic minded thinking (do this, do that, pay attention here, push harder there) and intuitive, fluid movement.

Kicking the engine into motion, and letting it run.

Part holding on, part letting go.

Method and madness.

Willpower and instinct.

Drive and patience.

An object in motion.

The most difficult and the most natural thing you can do.

Be like water. Be inevitable. Be form. Be speed. Move like a cat. Work like a dog.

Fast runners are like sports cars. You can tell they’re fast even when they’re just cruising around the neighborhood at normal speeds.

100 on 100

The most interesting aspect was comparing this go-round to times I’ve done this in the past. I found myself getting hung up on trying to post stuff as good as my old favorites, which is not the point of the exercise. Maybe I’m taking myself too seriously compared to the past? If nothing else, this was a helpful exercise in seeing that. I also like how 100 words sharpens my focus onto the million little vignettes & characters & dialogue I pass by in a day. I plan to continue writing intermittently, and would definitely do this again every November.

The Firekeepers

The elders tell of a time when everything burned. All the forests burned and all the animals left.

Our village used to be several days away from here, following the path of the river. We were chased out by this great wall of fire. Our people had never seen fire before.

When the fire finally ended, a brave few went into the burned land and captured hot embers. This is where our people first got our fire. Since then, we have fed it for generations. And so it lives on in the village center – fire for us all to share.

An outfit without jewelry is like a cupcake without frosting

The house was especially radiant, but what he noticed most was the doorknobs.

Upon entering, you shake hands with giant, seemingly ancient, cast-iron knobs set into thick oak doors.

Crystal knobs glisten from the dining room doors. Porcelain knobs adorn the bathroom drawers and cabinets. Patterned brass, each with its own unique etching, ornament each bedroom door. Tiny latches, levers, and handles made from bronze and silver hang from stands, dressers, and chests throughout the house.

Just as the right jewelry completes an outfit, the doorknobs in this house lend an absolutely undeniable air of confidence, elegance, completeness, and thoughtfulness.

 

Wolfgang

We finished our breakfast coffee, sucking down one last bit of warmth before heading out into the cold Vienna streets. Wearing our freshly powdered wigs and finest garments, we walked to the Trattnerhof amid light snowfall.

The young composer Wolfgang Mozart has been thrilling audiences at every show. I have never heard his music, but his reputation precedes him. They say his taste and skill are unmatched, that he’s transforming the genre.

Today’s concerto is new, it will be the first time these notes rise from the piano for the world to hear. This shit’s gonna slap so hard omg.

 

Marketing Lead

We are hiring a full-time Marketing Lead in New York City. This role is aimed at highly talented marketers with 5+ years of work experience in consumer goods, both online and off.

As marketing lead, your job is to craft and distribute our message to our global community, both new and returning. You will be an integral part of the business, with a strong focus on narrative & brand as well as ROI & budget. You will work closely with product development, e-comm engineering & design, business development & strategy, external marketing partners, and other functional leads here at PremiumSexToys.com

 

 

The Colors in a Day

Egg yolk yellow

Strawberry jam red

Dark coffee brown

Add milk to brighten

 

Flat red adobe brick

Turquoise tiles

Hot black pavement

 

Blonde blonde blonde

Bright white teeth

Pink lips and nipples

 

Light green succulents

By the light grey sidewalks

That go several shades darker when it rains

 

Faded salmon shorts

Blue striped towels

Dull grey driftwood

 

Blue pink purple skies

Seafoam

Off-white sand

contains multitudes when you inspect each

grain by grain

 

Neon lights

White yellow red hot embers

Dancing headlights white and red

 

Until the lights turn out

and all the dancing colors

hide away

until tomorrow’s show.

A Bag for Everything

A bag for the cat’s toys

A bag for the dog’s toys

A bag of snacks

For us and for them

 

A bag for candles and matches

A bag for pens and pencils

A bag for batteries and chargers

So we’re always prepared

 

A bag of memories

A bag of goals

A bag of regrets

A bag of insecurities

A bag of successes, confidence, and wins

 

A bag for family

A bag for friends

A bag for lovers

Past and present

 

A bag of socks

A bag of rocks

A bag of bags

In case we run into something new

Do it for the ‘gram

Should I wear these pants?

Girl, you should definitely wear those pants.

Do it for the gram!

 

Should I jump on this tall thing?

Yeah bro, definitely. Do it for the gram!

 

All over the world, people are doing it — balling at the mall, benching at the gym, tanning at the beach, grinding on the job, jamming on the guitar — for the gram.

 

Before that, people would do it for the telegraph

Drive at 18 mph in the Model T?

You bet, do it for the telegraph!

 

Should I kill this buffalo?

Definitely, do it for the cave wall drawing!

Jill

Susan and Lauren walked out proudly with Jill, their pet chicken.

 

“Jill,”

they explained to the packed auditorium,

“can play America The Beautiful.

by herself.

on the piano.”

 

The panel of judges was aghast!

The audience in disbelief!

 

Did Susan and Lauren feel a moment of doubt?

Not even the slightest.

“Jill’s a consummate professional,”

they assured the judges and audience.

Not a tinge of nervousness

nor shade of doubt

to be heard.

 

And boy did Jill deliver.

Note by note.

From sea to shining sea.

 

The audience raised to its feet

with thunderous applause.

 

Jill the true American patriot.

On Gratitude

Recently I’ve begun making an effort to say “thank you” more.

There are many things to thank people for. Thank them for listening. Thank them for explaining something. Thank your Lyft driver for the ride. When the TSA agent spends 10 minutes searching your bags and asking you questions, flip the script and thank him for being patient with you.

Let people know that their actions are acknowledged and appreciated. Done right, it makes a meaningful contribution to another person’s day. And by emanating positivity, which costs you nothing, people will reflect it back to you. It’s a virtuous cycle.

Noodles

We’re jumping in!

Me and Tony knew each other since the pasta plant, just a coupla fettuccine’s fresh off the press.

We became good friends next to each other in the box, on the truck, to the store, and on the way to Karen’s house.

In the pantry we got excited, knowing any day would be our big day.

Now here it is, we’re goin in!

Head first into the boiling water. Time to get loose, tired of being stiff all these months.

Prime time baby.

Wonder what kind of sauce Karen likes. Hoping for Bolognese but wouldn’t mind Alfredo!

Mason St.

Nowhere’s like nowhere

On the block

Sidewalks sticky like pancakes

Battery acid hangs in the air

Donuts and piss and cigarettes

Cold in the shade, blinding in the sun

Everything’s sharp when you haven’t slept in a bed in months

Dark days hard times

It’s ugly ugly ugly

There’s friends out here

Other souls

Beneath the layers

Of grime grit pain pity

Reaching for joy

Here he comes

Here comes the man

Light up, take off

Fill up your lungs and chase out the darkness

Warm neon glow and I’m buzzing

Everything’s ok, we’re ok

And everything is clean again

Gone Surfing

Pink shirt blue shades

Sand in my toes freckles on my nose

Riding to the beach with a backpack, inside some food for later, sandwiches, water

Sip an ice coffee that’s halfway gone, ice starting to melt, just getting good

AC on with the windows open

Nodding along with the warm wind

Local college radio on the speakers

Wetsuit hanging off the side mirror

Headed to the ocean for a day

running along the beach

surfing

reading

playing guitar

Making friends that will last all summer

or just for today

Just like our dads did

The kings of endless summer

Digital Currency

He turned on his VR headset and scanned through the porn menus. Options laid out in front of him, as he chose among friends, celebrities, strangers, deciding who to have fake sex with tonight.

He found her, an old friend from undergrad.

He picked a scene called Library Stacks, put in his earbuds, and began enjoying himself.

When the session ended, his account was charged $20. Somewhere a thousand miles away in LA, his old friend from undergrad made a commission. She had done a naked body scan, licensed it out, and made a good chunk of change each month.

New York Fucking City

As she rode to the Minneapolis airport, to catch a flight to New York, she felt a piece missing.

The first time she made the trip, she was a precocious high school sophomore, travelling with her family, bubbling over her stack of books and printouts with plans and ideas and sights to see.

Her next trip was after her first year of college, visiting friends interning there for the summer. Freedom! Chance! Adventure in the big city!

She’d been back a dozen times since, both for vacation and business. And today, for the first time, it felt like a chore.

When You Fall Off Your Horse

When you fall off your horse, you can start to have doubts. You wonder what you could be doing better. You wonder if you’re cut out for this whole horse-riding thing. You wonder if maybe you’re good at riding horses, but maybe this is just the wrong horse for me? You start thinking about other horses, and those lucky winners who ride them. You think of their perfect focus and their perfect technique and their inevitable successes. Why are they good but I am bad? Why am I never good enough?

Or you can get back up on the horse.

Havana Tuesday

As I walked down a narrow road, an old man in dress pants and a loose linen shirt stood up and pointed at me. He ran his other hand through his hair and made a scissors motion.

I walked over and looked into the doorway of his barbershop. The air was rich with jazz, laughter and quick sharp scissors.

The long narrow shop had a mirror running the entire length of the right wall, and a line of a dozen chairs bolted into the ground, each occupied.

The man out front winked and smiled and said “best haircut in Havana.”

Paul Getty’s Playbook

It was my first week as CEO. I made a list of all of my store managers, ranked in order of revenue per dollar spent.

I noted the 3 names at the bottom list, and saw to it that they would each have $5 docked from their next paycheck.

To nobody’s surprise, they each came to me after the next paycheck.

“Listen,” I said, “Your store has been underperforming for the last year. Low sales, high waste, leaking 10’s of thousands of dollars per month. Yet when I subtract $5 from your paycheck, you notice immediately and take direct action.”

Miami Departure

“Nope, never been to Miami before.”

“What brought you here? Work?”

“My younger brother lives here. He called me a week ago to say he’s dying. Cancer.”

I blinked. The flight attendant walked by, explaining the oxygen masks.

“Yeah, everyone flew out to visit him, say our goodbyes.”

“He’s still -”

“Alive? Yeah. Has maybe three weeks, who knows. This is the last time I’ll see him.”

Blink. “How’d that go?”

“He’s the same prick he’s always been, ha. But we made our peace. My conscious is clear.”

“So you’re never gonna come back to Miami, are you?”

“No sir.”

Library of Candy

“Come come!” says Francis as he welcomes us into the Library of Candy.

The main hall, which engulfs you as you enter through the front doors, has walls 6 stories high, lined with countless small drawers. Each drawer has a window, offering a peek at a new color, size, and shape of sweet.

He asks us what we like, what we’ve tried, if we prefer spicy or sour, crunchy or chewy. As we answer, he barks out orders – childhood favorites, foreign delectables, oddball names for limited editions – to nameless assistants who scale the ladders that line the walls.

“I do not conquer, I submit” – Giacomo Casanova

It becomes truer with each step of the journey.

There is no conquer. This is not arm wrestling, this is not war. Her love cannot be taken. It must be given.

You gain her love by giving love. The true master flows like water in any situation. He guides the relationship towards meaningful, open, emotional, vulnerable moments. Moments he genuinely enjoys sharing with her, because those are the stuff of life. This is a dance.

Be curious. Be honest. Be willing to have your heart broken. Go for the ones that truly rock you off the back of your heels.

To Robin

To laugh.

To yell, to whisper, to sing and dance.

To play a character. To put on an accent, a costume, a mannerism. To play a genie, a doctor, a professor, a husband.

To play yourself.

To spark in the eyes of children as well as adults.

To have something to say about everything.

To to be funny, to be hairy, to be an everyman, to be a superman, to be an old lady when the role calls for it.

To swear, to pause, to stare, to blink. To breathe, to wonder, to challenge.

To inspire, to listen.

To live.

 

The Game

You get good at the game you play.

We each have 24 hours in the day. The homeless lady on the street, the president, Michael Phelps. 24 hours.

Whatever it is, whatever you’re doing day in and day out, that’s the thing you’re getting better at.

Are you building things, selling things, searching for things? Making friends? Making enemies? Training your body, sharpening your mind? Reading? Writing? Creating? Critiquing?

As life rolls on like a snowball, what snow are you packing on?

You get good at the game you play. So play the game you want to get good at.

June 1st

“Isn’t it a good thing, to question yourself once in a while?” I asked myself.

Keep your head up and work smart, keep your head down and work hard. Zoom in zoom out.

Focus on the value and rarity of the skill, not the difficulty.

Work, sleep, romance, health. What matters matters. Coffee and code and emails and working out and friends. Make it beautiful, make it quick.

How do you measure productivity? That’s the big question. Impact over effort. What are you trying to do? Do it.

Take pictures meet people read books be friendly be yourself.

Float on.

Uphill Sometimes

We moved out here to Kenton City, Kansas about a month and a half ago. Dad got promoted to a management job, he’s an agricultural consultant.

I don’t miss Starberg. It’s all the same. But the kids out here don’t like me much.

I started work at the new pizza place, there’s a new Papa John’s here. I didn’t know the whole backstory, that the town had been campaigning against them for 2 years. Mama Rita’s pizza down on main street’s been putting up a big fuss.

Sometimes you try your hardest and still end up in a shitty spot.

Perfection

I’m going to host the perfect party and only invite perfect people.

Everyone there will be dressed perfectly.

You’ll arrive at the perfect moment, say the perfect one-liner to the host, and walk right in.

The orderves will be perfectly fresh and delicious.

You’ll lock eyes with a young woman across the room. You’ll flash her your perfect smile, walk over, and say hi.

She’s perfect.

You ask her number. She says yes, of course.

Next Tuesday, you’ll go on the perfect date.

In June, you’ll have the perfect wedding, move into a perfect house and raise a perfect family.

Rachel

She doesn’t wear makeup.

She’s a photographer. She thinks too hard, takes herself too seriously, but her stuff’s good.

She’s wise, she could be twice her age.

She’s bright, sharp, she’s vulnerable, she lets you in. Within half an hour you know volumes about her.

She knows she’s pretty, but hasn’t got a clue.

She’s obsessed with her work. She’ll be famous.

She reminds me of Joni Mitchell.

She’s focused, intense, dismissive of distractions.

She’s a good listener, a good talker. Great eyes.

She’ll get you talking about something and before you realize it you’re spilling your guts.

She’s alright.

Visitor’s Badge

Hi, welcome to Tekko Corp.

My job here is to hate the company I work for.

Her job is to answer the phone and deflect questions.

His job is to tell other people what to do.

Her job is to order lunch and organize the holiday party.

His job is to take notes at meetings.

Her job is to come up with ideas and give them to her boss.

His job is to make spreadsheets.

Her job is to write the same email over and over.

His job is to hide things from the government.

Want to get a coffee?

The Good Art

This is bullshit art.

It’s “look at me, pretending to be an artist” art.

It’s a tourist on a tour.

A halfhearted attempt to prove to yourself that a more normal path is what’s reasonable. Go get a fucking desk job.

Vulnerability. Show it to me. Show me what you got!

Don’t let the voices in your head get to you. The insecurities. They tell you to close doors. Be afraid. Someone might not like it.

Damn right, someone might not like it. Be proud.

What I want in an artist: “I’m not pretending to be anything. That’s the point.”

The Royal Game

“You start. Rookies take white.”

He wasn’t aggressive, like the jail dudes in the movies. His eyes though, had this steady intensity to them – you could feel him watching, focused, sizing me up. Looking to see if I was going to be a pussy or a problem or what.

I moved my King’s pawn two spaces.

He brought his full attention to the game.

We didn’t play with a timer, but there was a real pressure to not take all day making a move. Taking all day means you’re a pussy.

He looked almost happy when I beat him.

Twentysomething and a Half

Work hard. Also, relax.

Listen to your parents sometimes. Because sometimes they are right. And sometimes they are wrong.

What matters matters.

Life is like sports. Always pass the ball, unless you have an open shot, in which case, shoot the ball.

Think about what you’re doing.

Have some sex. Not so much that you have a baby, but have some sex.

Write a blog but not a shitty one.

Make some money. It’s okay to be a little broke, but seriously, make some money.

Friends = new friends + old friends – bad friends.

Be as popular and smart as possible.

7 Under 7

The young disruptors, innovators, gadgeteers, and thought leaders on our annual listing of the 7 Under 7 are impatient to change the world.

In categories ranging from government to entertainment to astrology, our panel of expert judges chose from the field of 700 million humans under age 7 to bring to you the world’s brightest stars. In sum, these ambitious youngsters, ranging in age from 3 to 6, represent the creative and intellectual best of their generation. Individually, they are engaging, surprising and incredibly hardworking.

Meet Mitch, Tom, Branon, Jessica, Jamie, Erin, and Sudipta! Our future is in their hands.

If you were suddenly to become wealthy, how would your life change?

I’d turn my phone off for days.

I’d spend more time in Chicago.

I’d read books the whole way through without ever putting them down.

I’d write a book with a friend.

I’d keep taking photos.

I’d go out for coffee every day.

I’d cancel my health insurance and pay for everything in cash.

I’d move to New York and do standup comedy 5 nights a week.

I’d buy a car. Late 90’s Porsche. Black.

I’d buy retirement for my parents.

I’d cover the check at lunch, always.

I’d make my friends famous.

I’d spend more nights abroad in hotels.

New Friends

The people I meet, they give me nightmares.

Everyone I meet. The farmer at the sunny peach stand at the farmer’s market. The bartender on the lower level at the Irish pub by the office. The Italian woman I sat next to on the subway on Tuesday.

I wake up in cold sweats. They’re coming at me. They’re humiliating me. They surround me. They know I’m weak, cold.

I wake up, go outside. The nightmare is over. For an hour I can pretend that I’ve won. And then I meet someone new, they smile big, looking deep into my soul.

This Condition

I got this condition see.

I got no rhythm.

I don’t know up from down.

I go left instead of right.

Quick instead of slow.

–

I got this condition see.

I love rhythm.

I feel it in my bones.

I smile when it’s right.

I need it daily.

–

I got this condition see.

What I want I can’t have.

I touch it.

But can’t grab hold.

It flows through me.

–

I got this condition see.

Feel like a kid.

Loving the ride, always the passenger never the driver.

No words to explain, no structure to understand.

All gut no brain.

When The Fall Comes

You’ll look for love in new places. You’ll reach out to friends, old and new, to hug, to laugh with, to cry with.

You’ll have vivid dreams about your beloved.

You’ll tell stories to shared friends, and you’ll write things down.

You’ll have emotions that you’re unable to put into words.

You’ll take the photos down off the walls and the mantle.

You’ll want to get on with your life.

You’ll feel guilty about wanting to get on with your life.

The shape of your day, the way you move about your life, will change.

You won’t be the same.

Miles From Santo Domingo

I moved here to San Francisco from the Dominican Republic three years ago.

I live upstairs from my younger son, his wife, and two daughters. He convinced me to move here when his mother, my wife, died.

I work three days a week at the barber shop a few blocks away, on Church street. Most of the Dominican people I know in the city come here for their haircut. It doesn’t feel much like home, but it feels more like Santo Domingo than the rest of San Francisco does.

Everything I know about is far away and doesn’t matter anymore.

BART

I was taking photos on the BART platform today. A BART employee walked over to me, and asked what I was taking photos for.

I said I was working on an art project.

He asked if I’d been in contact with the BART media office.

I said no.

He said I needed to stop taking photos.

I said I thought it was a free country.

He said that his manager upstairs saw me and said I needed to stop. “It’s a safety issue.”

I said, oh, that’s interesting, you guys have cameras?

He said he didn’t want to debate anymore.

Pickup

I was always embarrassed in high school, driving my dad’s pickup truck around.

Why did we have to own something so practical? The other kids got to drive around fun cars, fast cars. Dave even had a motorcycle.

In the flatbed, we always had 2×4’s, tools, cinder blocks, stuff from whatever project my dad was working on.

On weekends, I would sometimes work on projects with my dad. He would teach me something new, and challenge me to do it better than him.

It took an entire childhood before I stopped wishing my dad were a businessman, or a scientist.

a photographer

a journalist, a reporter, a recorder, an instigator, a director, an artist, a businessperson, a technician, a student, a teacher, a traveller, a master, and apprentice, an observer, a follower, a tastemaker, a curator, a networker, an advisor, a stylist, a meteorologist, a biologist, an anthropologist, an astrologist, a biographer and autobiographer, a negotiator, an entertainer, an organizer, a spy, a researcher, a tourist, a sharpshooter, a scientist, a storyteller, a philosopher, a cynic, a craftsman, an explorer, an illusionist, a revisionist, a whistleblower, an investigator, an experimenter, a friend, a connection, a historian, a messenger, a catalyst, a symbol.

Win Easy

Life is a battle with yourself.

Do this; don’t do that. Get up and do something; slow down and relax.

The way you treat others says a lot about the way you treat yourself. Win gracefully against others, and you will train your mind to stay strong when doing battle with your own vices. Lose with dignity and you will learn how to carry on, and find a voice of strength, when the course of action takes an unexpected bend.

There’s no autopilot. The true path is not devoid of challenges. Don’t run from the battles; instead strengthen the warrior.

Masculinity in Two Parts

Like the bicep and tricep, two opposite forces must be mastered.

Putting the ego in

Focus, get lost in the details. Winning is winning. Give a damn. Be genuine. Know thyself. Meditate. Pour yourself in, and take feedback to heart. Make yourself vulnerable. Get closer to truth. Breathe deep and own it.

Taking the ego out

Be able to see the long term, the big picture. Be outcome independent. Detach from short term failures and wins, and keep the eyes on the prize. Fail and get over it. Miss a shot, and stay late after practice. Fall down? Get up.

Before We Had All The Answers

My buddy Phil and I were grabbing drinks the other day at the bar by work, on 7th. Freefallin’ comes on the radio, and we both start wondering, “Where’s Tom Petty from, anyway?”

Phil thought Phoenix, I was pretty sure LA.

The next day I asked around – my roommate, the guy at the donut shop, the mailman. Nothing conclusive.

This morning I ran into Emily, from Connecticut, wearing a Tom Petty tour shirt, waiting for the bus outside my apartment.

“Where’s he from, anyway?”

“Gainesville,” she said. “Florida.” A confident smile.

I asked her, “What’re you doing next Tuesday?”

Sheila, The Queen of Diamonds

As soon as Sheila welcomes you into the front door, you feel stoned.

There’s a richness of detail on every wall. You become hungry for something you didn’t know existed when you pulled into the driveway minutes ago. You want to spend hours looking at each lampshade, each spot of paint, each tile on the ceiling. You see tiny and large photos of her, posing famously with dignitaries from all over. Hallways diverge and bend, and there are mirrors everywhere. You feel you should leave a trail of breadcrumbs, in case you get lost.

She sure knows how be wealthy.

Couth

“Hey Sara, smile a little bit, take a sip.”

“When I mentioned the idea of bringing him here to the jazz club with you and Phil, he laughed.”

“What’s he doing instead?”

“He’s at home. Probably with some buddies, playing cards.”

“Listen-”

“I just wish he’d use the front half of his brain sometimes.”

“Sara, you knew this the second that you met him. The guy is a construction worker with an amazing physique and a sense of humor. Don’t be so surprised about the jazz – it’s like getting mad at Walmart in rural Kentucky for not selling sushi.”