Monday morning of a midterm week and I’d rather be taking psychedelics and watching the autumn leaves as they change color. Instead, I’ll be humming the Fugs and silently flying my freak flag while sitting in lecture with 200 twitchy twenty-year-olds texting under their desks while the professor pounds out supermarket cultural theory with all of the shrill, liberal arrogance available to him for three hours. And he seems to have a huge reservoir of the stuff. Not exactly a coal mine, I know, but it makes me fear going postal. Weekend, where did you go? Monday, you’re the devil.
Fly Your Freak Flag With The Fugs!