Excerpt from "I Still Think Every Knock Is The Cops" at Cry It Out:
Like any other child, I played all manner of oddball, make-believe games. Dive ‘em. Catch ‘em. Hit ‘em. Even in the thick, lingering heat of summer, I would build a fort out of blankets, strap on a puffy snowsuit and play “astronaut” in what was essentially a make-believe space kiln. The only thing I remember about that game was an overwhelming swelter that must have burned off billions of brain cells with each new mission. Clearly, I played it a lot.
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