I don’t get out much because I don’t have any more friends and I live like a reclusive bandicoot, but last night I went to a party that was very nice. There was white chicken chili and the capacity to make quesadillas; although I did not make a quesadilla, it was a relief to know the option existed. I ended up entranced with someone who said his hobby was staying up until three in the morning watching prison documentaries on the National Geographic channel, and you know, if someone had said to me, pick out the guy at this party whose hobby is staying up until three in the morning watching prison documentaries on the National Geographic channel, he would have been the one.

Anyway, not to be outdone, I brought up my hobby of watching documentaries about abandoned prisons that are haunted. Haunted by what? he said. Haunted by scary ghosts, I said. So what, he said, there’s nothing interesting about that. Ghosts aren’t going to do anything to you. Dismissing scary ghosts as a solved problem, he implied that there are far worse things lurking in a functional prison that is not haunted, but Rob and Jwer made me go home before I found out what they were.

No wonder I don’t have any friends.