For the past week, I have been in Minneapolis on business. Since Minneapolis is the “New York” of the Midwest, a lot of my good friends from back when and my older brother have found their way here. In my four nights being here, I have crashed on four different couches. It has been good to reconnect with people, and the weekend was spent visiting with friends and reminding ourselves how much we like alcohol, which led to us belting out Disney songs for an hour last night.

The weekend would have been awesome in and of itself, but I think the universe is trying to pay me back for my motorcycle that was stolen a few weeks ago. Because this morning, I was walking from my friend Lee’s house from Minni’s Uptown to Downtown (where I suspected things would be great) when…

BAMHOLYSHITAWESOMENESSOUTSIDEAGIRL’SPANTS!!!!!

…In  box marked with a handwritten “free” sign were a dozen magazines. These were not just any magazines. These were The Believer, one of my favorite magazines. Actually, currently my favorite. The only magazine I ever liked more was National Geographics when I was twelve. This was partly because that awesome publication used to be my only access to nipples. But now that the Internet has given me nipples on demand, The Believer is arguably my favorite magazine. And since I am allowed to decide my own preferences, the only person I have to argue with would be myself. And I would win that argument. If I disagreed with myself, I would slap myself until I agreed.

Anyways, to the person I will never meet who put out this box instead of throwing them away. Thanks. You are awesome. Random acts of kindness kick ass, like you.

Look how happy I am in black and white with two of the mags:

Hipster glasses? Yes, but never out in public. Why? Because I don't want to jump on the trends. That's so hipster of you. I'm not hipster. That's what a hipster says.

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