Is this the end?!>>>

Unfortunately the job has called quickly to me this fine day and I have no time to tell you all about my weekend packed full of urban experiences. That said, now is the perfect time to introduce a new feature: An Doof Ass Predilections. While An Doof Ass has made himself rather scarce as a bosom chum and doesn’t much care to engage in rollicking hijinks since becoming a turtleneck wearing east coast twiddler that doesn’t mean we can’t remember the good old days and make predictions based on those fond memories.

A remeberance...

An Doof Ass has for most of his life been seen as an “intelligent young man.” Growing up in a refined home he was able to cultivate some of the finer pursuits: effeminate Englishman authors and their dykish female counterparts, obscure enunciations, and predictable classical music are his calling cards. To this day it is not uncommon for him, after a couple of vodka martinis, to approach a dykish woman at a bar and recite exerts from Middlemarch to the tune of Debussy's String Quartet in G. Not only is this horrifically odd it is--surprisingly–vulgar and perverted.

A prediction...

This weekend will find An Doof Ass swollen eyed and stumbling through various subway platforms singing the Notre Dame Irish fight song to any who will listen. He will then Sunday morning repenting of sins to the fashionable beats of Native American drums, hammered dulcimers, and didgeridoos at the local parish before spending the evening trying to borrow money from his roommates for “laundry.”