The value of Juicero is more than a glass of cold-
pressed juice. Much more. The value is in how easy
it is for a frazzled dad to knock the queasy
edge off the half case of Coors Extra Gold
he drank last night because his ex-wife told
him that he’d never keep them. The kids. Her breezy
iPhone alto happy. Remarried a cheesy
real-estate asshole with a Beemer and a billfold.
Fuck you, Kim. “Hey Daddy,” Jaiylyn calls,
“we’re gonna miss the bus.” He sighs and hits
the button. Nothing. The pouch, it seems, is one
day beyond the best-if-used. It all
becomes quite clear. He chews two aspirin, grits
his teeth, and goes to the closet to get his gun.
Jacob Bacharach 
Oh Lord.
no groaning about a sample mission statement from your own religion, leonard. but that is a choice quote. “i awoke in the middle of a dark woods, w/only a coke for my pilgrimage…”
what’s death like? it’s a lot like shopping-don d’s white noise.
“don’t let your dog have british teeth!” talk about the urge to reach for the gun, sheesh.