Exciting; Almost Like a Pulse

With my inability to jet off to Austin to catch all the SXSW shit, I've resorted to a newly-discovered form of entertainment that may be too intensely heartbreaking (or hilarious) for some: observation of the mid-life crisis!

Every afternoon in the parking lot behind Plano Market Square, you can see the hoards that haunt The Dubliner before they were leather-strapped, flag-burnin' badasses. No one is born atop a Harley, and the majority of the newly-inducted AARP generation weren't Hell's Angels at an early age. Therefore, while the less creative 40+ men of the metroplex squeeze their withering sex drives into the cramped quarters of sports cars, I get to watch potbellied guys with cargo shorts and bandanas freak out as they maneuver around traffic cones at 4 m.p.h.


I'll tell ya, it's things like this that truly flush my suburban cynicism down the drain.