I don’t have much to add to this, which is absolutely hilarious, but I needed an excuse to post that epic title. If Glenn Reynolds has the capacity to feel shame or embarrassment — and I have doubts — then I would imagine there’s some heavy drinking going on in… eh, I don’t give a shit enough to look up where he lives. I know it’s in Tennessee.
Alright, real talk: if I fucked up this badly in such a public way, I imagine it’d probably be time to check out. Every second of my life would be constantly interrupted by oh fuck oh fuck I can’t believe I wrote that exact garbage at that exact moment. I think I have some kind of congenital shame-processing deficiency, and I’m completely at a loss as to how someone could live this (or the Fisher or Will pieces described in the link) down. What’s the opposite of water off a duck’s back? A sack of drowned kittens?
Holy shit, that’s terrible! I’m a monster. Whatever. Eat a dick, other part of my brain; it made me laugh.