One bourbon, one scotch, and one mav

Holy cock.

Two Mormon kids from SLC just won an award for Peltier-cooling a car. That sound you’re hearing is the sound of [({{{{{{H}}}}}}})]ard|[][!}|OCPers all around the world simultaneously jizzing themselves.

Insert obligatory Arctic Silver/humidity sealer/neoprene block joke here.

“In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In LA, nobody touches you. We’re always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.”

I just got done watching a movie called Crash. It’s directed by a man named Paul Haggis, who in my mind is, after two films, a man that I will definitely be keeping my eyes on. I really hate to use words like “mesmerizing” and “chilling” for fear I’ll start sounding like some cheap newspaper reviewer, but fucked if they aren’t appropriate here. (more)
Continue reading “It’s the sense of touch.”