Eight years ago today, I met the rest of my life. I’ve had a goofy grin on my face ever since.

Happy anniversary, my love.

Chuckle-worthy, I thought.

And thank you for joining me for this five-minute break from studying for my “stupid GIS class I shouldn’t have taken in the first place but now I’m fucked” midterm.

Utopia
Set Me Free (1980)

My disorienting moment of the morning involved watching a sexual harassment video where everyone was dressed like cast members from Saved by the Bell inside a building at UNCG I hadn’t entered in eighteen years, and then hearing Jump by Kriss Kross blaring from someone’s car when I walked outside.

It almost made me want a beer and a cigarette.

Obviously Mr. Chronicle reporter meant to use either “downpour” or “cloudburst” in the lead paragraph of this story, because what he described was most definitely not a downburst.