I spent my morning playing host to one of my very bestest good friends who is back from a year in Saudi Arabia. Then I got in car to drive all the way up to Plattsburgh for a commercial shoot with my dad. The old man sang/drummed along to every song he liked on the Willie Nelson Pandora station and make up new lyrics to sing along with the ones he didn’t like. They mostly involved poop and/or gay sex.

When he dies, he’ll retroactively spin in his grave.

So that’s why I didn’t write anything today. What’s your excuse?