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The return to actual sunshine has been wonderful for so many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that after 24 hours my jackets have only just lost that perpetual Northwest dew...but I’m tired in a seemingly incurable sort of way and also just a little creeped out from vegging out to X-Files on Netflix last night. I couldn’t help but Google some of the more absurd cases with hopes of confirming my nonexistent chances of getting my face melted off my a terminally eczema-ridden sexual deviant, only to discover that one of the cults featured in the first season was not so loosely based on a settlement located uncomfortably close to my hometown. And residents of that settlement may or may not have started a restaurant with the intent of poisoning out-of-town visitors. The jury’s still out on whether or not I’ll ever be able to eat food prepared by people other than my immediate family ever again. Can’t deny an increasing appreciation for professional-wear though. Agent Scully really has a knack for making them look undeniably bad-ass while beating down potential aliens, land-bound mermaids, disjointed cannibals and the like. Hopefully I’ll be able to focus on some of that solid tailoring tonight instead of soul-sucking shape-changers...trust no one...