“I hate to break this to you, but my husband also thinks that you look like Craig Finn.”
In the interest of trying to figure out what the fuck everyone else sees in my fucking doppelganger, I am listening to a Hold Steady album right now. I still don’t get it. Stop pooping when you sing, and get rid of that Cities 97 backup band. I mean, come on, Craig, stop ruining it for the rest of us with the same haircut and glasses. I should have punched you when I had the chance. I can only imagine the police interviewing the witnesses now.
“So, what did this guy look like?”
“He looked like him.”
“He looked like the complainant?”
“Yes. Exactly. I think that it was him.”
“Sir, did you hit yourself?”
“No! Goddamnit! It wasn’t me, it was evil me!”