One: A Complex magazine cover rendered awkward by the fact that it was already sitting on store shelves the day Michael Jackson died. Jonah Hill probably blames himself. I do, anyway.
Two: Newly emptied shelf space — and not the first time such an occurrence has been noted on this blog.
Three: Inexplicable graffiti in a Ventura gas station bathroom.
Four: A co-worker’s vehicle, dust tagged in her honor.
Five: A copy of a Jimmy Buffet record, A White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean, deservedly set beside my apartment building’s dumpster.
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