sunny and i patronized the ever-popular Second Wind bar this evening (the *coughonlybarinourneighborhoodcough*. the bands are pretty much awful, as is the clientele. anyway, driving home we were waxing nostalgic about crappy 90’s music — and that’s when i realized it:

all three hanson boys are married. and i am not.

i haven’t decided my method of suicide, but i’m taking suggestions.