tunes: Chrono Cross OST - They Who Are Gone

Work is coming along grand. So far, I have one line typed out: my name. Yes, it's THAT good. I'm tremendously exhilarated over this progress. A great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I have been liberated. What should I do today to celebrate this marvelous event? Perhaps seeking wisdom from the local hobos on Broad Street (if any, these days, they all seem to move to more swankier hotspots... like Old City). An old favorite of mine, flipping the bird to the folks at the Snyder retirement home who plant themselves outside (despite record highs and lows) and peculiarly stare at everyone as they walk by. Sometimes, if I'm in the mood for the utmost of avant-garde, I strike the Elvis pose and moonwalk like Michael Jackson when he was still black. Or how about the wonderful Broad Street Orange Line? Ever see the Express sidling along and stare at the folks while they return the same blank stare at you? It's more fun to grab a big black marker and make a note, stick it on the window as reading material. Honestly, I've never done that, but I have waved a few times. Say hello to a stranger, whydoncha?