Once again I find myself reminiscing, this time about the early aughts, when Willem Dafoe and I got drunk on a fan boat in the Everglades and wrestled some alligators, which turned out not to be alligators but were instead three swamp people with severe eczema.
I am reminiscing tonight as I oft do when I am feeling low, and I happened to recall the story of The Worst Wing-Man Ever.
If you follow this blog (and again, why the hell would you?) you know that I went on a trip to a country where hallucinogens are readily available to do a little mind expansion retreat. Here is what I learned.