A busy evening last night, involving three parties in succession, the last (and best) of which being Ms. Sarah Brown’s and Mr. Ryan Chittum’s joint birthday bash, the first party I’d attended since college that ended by being broken up by the cops.

Got my knuckles Sharpie-tattooed (again) by Sarah, this time reading “TALK SHIT”, and, feeling immensely honored to be one of the few to achieve two-time tattooing, I’ve now decided I have no choice but to shoot for eventually getting my knuckles similarly SB-defaced more times than anyone else. As the current leader, Erin Byrne, a.) a lives in Oklahoma, and b.) is a librarian, I’m totally ready to kick her ass.

The only downside to the plan is that, while other people apparently can wash their Sharpieing right off, I, possessing a special magnetism for people and ink, am left with tattoo remnants for a good two or three days. Which, frankly, makes for some excellent business-meeting conversation:

Big Investor: “Why does it say ‘Slow Deth’ on your knuckles?’

Me (sitting on hands): “Slow deth? [Nervous laughter] I have no idea what you’re talking about.”