New heights? Almost never. But there's always a new low.

Here at RBIE, it is part of our mission statement to never be genuine. (What? You haven't seen our mission statement? I'll email it to you.) You will, for instance, never see any original poetry on this site, unless of course it's dirty or would be banned by some small town in Carolina (either one, take your pick) for being somehow ungodly. We encourage that kind of poetry.

So, you'll excuse me for this, but I am experiencing a bout of unbalanced anger towards everyone in New York City and a few people in Connecticut who I haven't met yet, but I'm pretty sure would piss me off if I did bother to make their acquaintance. Why isn't James Frey a genuine badass? Why can't Hillary Swank work things out with Rob Lowe's brother? And while we're at it, why is the only actual date I've been on recently have to have been with a 45 year-old who I originally thought was gay? And who among you, loyal RBIE readers/bored law students, are willing to write my thesis for me? And where the fuck did I put my keys?!? That last question is not one that perhaps any of you can answer for me. Rant over. I'm going to go pray for forgiveness now. From one of my many gods. I'm sorry...Gods.