Is that my... my... conscience? Seriously?

It seems I have one after all. Of course, the mildly illegal activity (to which I was an accomplice last week) wasn't the primary reason for those pangs of guilt.

I blame watching the first 10 episodes of My Name Is Earl. That show is the perfect rehabilitation for those of us who are "good people with a touch of bad." You sit and think, "What would Earl do? Would he advocate punching this douchebag in the face? Or would sit back and let karma do the ass-kicking for him?"

Because Earl is cool. And he has a moustache.

If I could write for any TV show, I think this would be it.
Hire me, you fuckers.