1. basically, syracuse can kiss my ass.
2. anyone stumbling around downtown, fresh from a certain radio event, and who may or may not have consumed miller lite this morning (GREEN, NATCH*), and maybe then somewhow, oh, invades my personal bubble with their pinchy fingers? because I am wearing black? yeah, you can kiss my ass too. Line forms to the right, directly behind Syracuse. I'm not saying this has happened, I just like being proactive. I'm a Capricorn. we do not take risks.
3. Soundtrack for being mad, but not really mad, about things: Fuck Off Machete's What's the Signal? crtsy Fluxblog.
* (Hi again. I'm not Irish. At all. Somehow, I was named after a George Thorogood song + a nice Irish middle name, which can be confusing for a nice Danish Pole from teh suburbs such as myself. Let's just blame my parents, previously described as hippie/somewhat clueless (but now doing just fine in life, thank you very much.) But listen - I have talked to Irish people. These people, they have not given their approval of your consumption of green anything, okay? Just so you know, these rules aren't made by me. Sincerely, yrs truly.)