When are your kids old enough that you can start replacing all the shit they’ve stained beyond classy recognition?

That’s the passive aggressive’s way of making an accusation. Listen, honey. I didn’t do it and I wasn’t here when it happened. Furthermore, it’s not my problem.

This is a good read.

Stop calling me Jen. You are not my friend. You are a horrible human being and I hate you.

I would never have put geography under social and behavioral sciences, but what do I know.

Ooph. Also, I highly recommend Nancy’s book “To the Bridge.” It’s very well done.

Are you sure?

Are you reading this right now?

It might be a two Diet Dr. Pepper day, chickens.

Wait. What day is this?

I have never been in such desperate need of a massage in my life.

Even more unfriending. Interesting.

I always think, “Oh, I bet it was so and so.” And it never is who I think it is.

I bought a new

I have no idea what I was going to type there.

Why do I try to participate in these conversations? WHY?


i could deceive you

No. I cannot verify that information for you. Even if I could verify the information at all, I could not verify it for you.

Stop wearing those serial killer non-prescription aviator frames as accessories. They looked like shit in the 80s when they were the fashion, and they look like shit now.

That guy is pissed. I’m glad I’m not having to deal with him.

OMG Yeah. This is my life.

This guy is a dick. It’s hard to say if he’s a dick for the hits on his blog, of if he’s just a dick in general. But he’s a dick either way. Now I don’t even want to link to him.

It would have to be temporary!

You guys.

Chronic migraine is a chronic illness. I don’t think people really understand what living with chronic pain is like. And I know people get tired of my mentioning it. People never get tired of asking me “have you tried …?” and I take that in the spirit it was intended. But chances are, the answer is yes, I have, and it didn’t work. I have two different diagnoses, actually. Chronic Migraine – which is my every single day pain, and Breakthrough Migraine, which is the shit that knocks me on my ass, alters my vision, makes me want to sob in agony, but crying just makes it worse pain. Sometimes I just feel like I could use a little more understanding. That’s all. It’s frustrating. When I talk about it, or mention it, I’m not whining. I’m not complaining. I’m just telling you what shit is like. (Crohn’s Disease – the illness in this article – runs in my family. Happily for me, I have not been stricken with it.) Also, I don’t think people with chronic migraine are welcome in the “spoonie” club. That seems a little mean girls to me.

It’s OK. I’m a loner, Dottie. A rebel.

I should just delete that paragraph. No one cares about my skull.

I don’t know how to fill out this goddamn form.

Open faced sandwiches.

I need some white Norwegian cheese. Help a sister out. I’m being completely serious.

Shut up Van Jones.

I will never understand this process. NEVER.


We should let a snake loose in the house.

Just kidding.

Just call me Miss Anthropy.

I really hate Audible’s website.

Every time she says something about DAR I think she’s talking about the Daughters of the American Revolution and I get so confused. She is not talking about the Daughters of the American Revolution.

the pople

Come on. It’s like you’re looking for reasons to get pissed off at me, and if that’s the case, maybe you should just move on with your life, without me in it.

There’s something wrong with my tea.

I don’t know why Firefox thinks I give a shit about diamonds, but I don’t.

Every single platform I use has my personal algorithms completely wrong. Maybe that’s a good thing, I guess.

Where do they come up with drug names, anyway. So ridiculous.

Is it worth it? I don’t know. I’m really fucking tired.

WHAT. How can you possibly be out of apple cider? HOW. HOOOOOOOOW.

Every time this email goes out, every single person on the distribution list hits reply all. I literally could not care less about your response. Reply to the sender. It’s not that fucking hard.


By golly.

Shouting from the cheap seats. Honestly. It’s like you vote for these people because they’ll abuse you. What a bitch. And yeah, please do not have children. The world is full of enough dumb as it is.


Huh. What the hell am I posting on FB that’s so offensive? And why is it so hard to figure out who unfriended you?

Shut up Cory Booker.

Random is reaching record lengths these days. My brain needs an outlet.

And that is why you follow the fucking procedure.

Accepting his acceptance??

“There’s something weird about every family. That’s what makes America great.”

This is so cool. Also, I’ve been to the Rijksmuseum and it is incredible. I couldn’t even see the whole thing. If you ever have the opportunity, take it.

Is this too much? Do you prefer the shorter Randoms?

Look. I fell into this job because I needed a job, and because I got tuition remission. You chose to be a teacher for REASONS.

I have a loooooooooot of thoughts about this topic. But I’m going to keep them to myself a while longer. Read this instead.

I’m intuitively eating this pizza.

This is not what we should be spending our tax dollars on. If we stopped spending money on shit like this, maybe our roads wouldn’t be a national joke. Maybe our roads wouldn’t actually be in constant disrepair because we use the cheapest possible means of fixing them instead of resurfacing entirely. This shit pisses me off.  We don’t even need this. There’s a ritzy ass hotel not even a block away from this building.

I can’t believe not a single one of them has made a Madame Defarge reference in all of this. I’M THE ONLY ONE.

Pssst. She was not a hero.

Speaking of knitting, I wonder if Annie’s ever going to release that pattern I tested.

Man. Do academics just not give a shit about having people proof their papers for grammatical and spelling mistakes? Come. On.

I can’t read your article. Evidently I’ve hit my allowable reads for the month or year or whatever, and I’m not paying for a subscription.

Well. This has gone on long enough, don’t you think?