Please. You know I’m not going to talk about Dharma Bums or On The Road. I didn’t get an English degree for that. And plus, I’m not my 1995 boyfriend, trying desperately to have a deep conversation, so…
This is not to dismiss Jack Kerouac’s writing; if that’s what you want, check out another WP blogger. If it’s shallow and unnecessary judgment you need, you’re in the right place. And this isn’t about his cup of liquor or his pipe or his gingham or his lustful stare. It’s about how he was reincarnated as Nathan Fillion.
With a dash of Mike Rowe.
Well, this shot of a dirty hitchhiker doesn’t look too much Kerouac. I might be wrong. Perhaps I should do some more research, just to be sure.
Research is totally important.
Seriously.
Sorry, straight guys. Go cleanse your palate with some pin-ups.
I Don't Get It 