I met Chuck Palahniuk. And I feel like I should feel extremely privileged for having shook his hand. But I don't because in the end, it's just another hand. And you know what? It's not some god damn fucking sacred hand. He wipes his ass with that hand, just like I do with mine. And what not. His amazing mind is not in his hand, or in that smile of his. Or in those deflatable autographed penguins he threw to the crowd (caught one!), or in the small-talk we exchanged. The 4 hour line was worth it because it was spend with You. And You. And I love you both.