nobody here but us chickens

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Random Wednesday

OK, I totally forgot about the Stars Hollow musical. Dear God.

Pu-pu-pu-pu-Puuuuutin is still kinda funny though.

I’m having a really hard time with this stupid thing.

Was Twin Peaks just an elaborate exploration of David Lynch’s search for meaning and spiritual truth?

It’s Rory’s voice. It changed. I don’t like it. Yeah, I don’t like A Year in the Life after all.

There is nothing to like about raccoons.

If I had said what she just said in as public a forum as she did, I’d be labeled a racist and probably fired.

I’m just desperately trying to find a way out. That’s all.

One’s German, one’s French.

I love this.

Sorry, but no. And I don’t feel bad about it either.

Oh good. Yet another jerk who thinks it’s totally OK to just walk into my cube just because! Dude. I have met you one fucking time. I don’t know you. Stay out of my office.

I don’t know. Seems to me that if you’re so against prostitution, this would be the dream alternative. Don’t want men buying sex from women? Give them robots. How is this a problem??

Well there’s something we can agree on. With the law of averages it was bound to happen sooner or later.

Literally none of this shit makes any sense to me.

Lucifer is a nicer fellow, in comparison.

Not a single morning this week has gone according to plan. Not a one.

The Jennifers are not interchangeable.

I’ve decided that the term “middle of nowhere” is offensive, particularly to the people who live there. Clearly it is somewhere. Stop being so dismissive of rural communities. Ruralists.

I will never stop celebrating Halloween. Never. NEVER!

Evidently I got red paint on my travel mug too.

Why does it smell like garlic in here?

If I close my eyes for just a second too long right now, I will absolutely fall asleep at my desk.

Look at that. Look at it.

Maybe I’ll post late. So I can add more. So sleepy.

I don’t think the Supernatural parodies are that funny.  I wanted to. But I just don’t.

My sinuses feel like the Sahara.

I can’t tell you what

I do so appreciate the tea.

The oatmeal raisin cookie always starts out tasting good, but by the time you’ve finished it, it’s been entirely too much sugar. And possibly butter.

I can’t stop yawning.


Random Wednesday

I just learned how to make a conference call. It was not nearly as satisfying as I had hoped it would be.

Yep. HR. Helpful as ever.

Oh nothin’. Just watchin’ the hurricane blow in.

Yeah, it’s not “off the grid” if it has “high speed internet.” I mean that’s literally ON the grid.

I think it’s that you can’t actually stop yourself from being a dick.

It’s not the fishbowl. It’s not A fishbowl. It’s the seminar room. It’s right there on the door. “Seminar Room”

I’m pretty sure they were supposed to have taken the flag down before the weather started, but it’s been awesome to watch.

It’s very loud.

But then how will I pay for my Xanax?

ffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. I have been reading the wrong goddamn chapter.

HR is a joke. Utterly useless. Everyone hates you for a reason. A valid, valid reason.

The whole entire point of converting this room was to get it on the University system and you’re telling me it’s not on the University system??

Why do people give emergency contact information in their auto replies? “If this is an emergency, please contact public safety.” Why would anyone be contacting you via email in an emergency?

I just typed course lookly instead of course lookup. I do not know what is wrong with me.

“Yeah and so, yeah. Yeah and so.”

But what about KEVIN???

It just seems like Clarence Thomas all over again to me. In other words: Utter bullshit.

I don’t actually hate that many people. Not really.

Where is my certificate? Where is my 10 year anniversary pin? WHERE IS IT??

I’d take Steve McQueen over James Dean any day.

It’s funny how you say “we,” as if you had anything at all to do with it.

OK, look. Luke’s daughter is annoying as hell.

How am I supposed to respond and wrap up if no one comments on my discussion post? Answer my own questions? I guess I could answer my own questions. That’d be weird, but whatever.

I have Just Like Heaven stuck in my head, and I am so not in the mood.

I am not the co-chair. I don’t get to make any decisions. Why do I feel like the co-chair?

I forgot my Little Debbie treat for after lunch today. Sadness.

Stupid create button. Did you HAVE to put it where the home button used to be?

I just searched my blog for the word terrified and one of the posts that came up was talking about BLTs and now I really want a BLT.

When was the last time I had a BLT? I cannot remember.



Man, I really need some new Chucks.

Well if you’re going to give it to me. OK.

I don’t know. I’m finally attempting a second run at Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life and while there are things that are still bugging me, I do like it better than the first time I watched it. I really kind of hated it the first time I watched it.

I’m not heartbroken about Neil Gaiman. There’s no point.

Huh. The wheat for Triscuits comes muchly from the Mitten. Nice.

I just saw this question on someone’s post: “Can your boss do your job and would he be willing to do it?” Yeah that’s a big fat no.

Interesting juxtaposition: The Daily Wire and Vulture in my inbox at the same time.

This work load has been shockingly light. What are you talking about?

Tomorrow is picture day!

Everything hurts. Everything. This virus is never leaving my system. I’m clearly dying.

No, really, stop texting me. I’m so pissed at you.

Everybody buy a copy of this book that my new friend Joe wrote. He’s been working with me for the last year (and my committee) to bring Gaiman to campus. This book should be really really great.

I want pizza. And also BLTs. Not so much in the mood for tacos. But mostly just a cup of French Breakfast.


Random Wednesday

This is so fantastic.

But. Why wouldn’t you remember how old you were in 1979 if you were alive then?

Bleah. Bring back the cool temps. I beg of you.

OMFG could you NOT talk with your mouth full of food? Is that possible? Do you really need to get those words out RIGHT FUCKING NOW??

WHAT is with this mohair trend? It’s the only natural fiber I can’t wear. Makes me itch like crazy.

People. Apart means the exact opposite of what you’re trying to say. Stop using it.

My dizziness is not from low blood pressure. Stop telling me I need to drink more water to fix it.

I don’t need that many fucking reminders. Jesus.



I have a very difficult time saying modernity. I have no idea why. Rural is easier to say. So weird.

Thanks for the Cheez Its. Much obliged.

This exercise is stupid.

I REALLY need to finish reading this. But Burke. Ugh. The state is not my daddy.

Shortest Random in history. Well, no. One of the first ones was like 5 lines long.

I typed longs.

I’m out of it. Way out of it.

WTF is this. I don’t even know.

Plug your shit in.

Let me count the ways I loathe the cult of the personality test. These days Strengths Quest is all the rage. We have freaking Strengths Quest coaches on campus. No. Let that shit GO.

This shit’s due in two days and I’m the only one in the class who has done it. What the fuck, people?

Why is it so cold in here?

Well. So much for my dream of meeting Neil Gaiman. Time to move on to a new dream. Move on with my life. Move on off of this committee.

Whhhhhhhhhhhhhy though.

I do like that hat. I might have to make it. But not right now. I’m not buying anything at all right now.

Eh. Was it FEMA or was it the mayor? Hard to tell which is more inept.

My income certainly did not hit that particular high.

There’s just nothin’ happening here. Quietest Wednesday in months.

I always switch Remus and Romulus with Castor and Pollux in my brain. It’s so annoying.

I should not have eaten that Tiny Twix. It was just enough sugar to make me feel craptastic.

Here’s my issue with the internet. I mean aside from the rampant assholery. People keep posting shit I want to buy.

I’d completely fail as an ascetic, but I’m a total champ at being a stoic.

And forever a skeptic.



Somebody just buy my damn house.


Random Wednesday

I could not possibly have heard that correctly.

The dinosaurs are starting to arrive.

Here’s to not sucking.

Wow. What a monumentally shitty day.


Absolutely no fucking respect whatsoever. None.

Look, there is a sign on the printer in big red letters that says OUT OF ORDER. If you still try to print to it thereby using and losing your print credits, that’s on you. I can’t help you when you do foolish things.

This paper is soooooooooooooooooo dry. Like I’ll get into a really great paragraph and then BOOM. You lose me. Stop saying epistemological.

I’ve been using this mousepad for nearly twenty years. I suddenly feel like I should wash it.

People keep posting hot cocoa memes. Hot cocoa is a winter drink. Hot cider is a fall drink. You people have it all wrong.

I thought that said “human function.” It did not.

It’s not “her and me.” It’s never “her and me.” It’s SHE and I. Jesus.



My knits have spiraled out of control. I need some serious organization and assessment of project status. It’s nuts. Like seriously nuts.

OK, but you’ve listed my name backwards.

I have nothing but respect for anyone willing to work. And I’m sick to death of people being treated as less than because elites think that their jobs are worth less. I get looked down on all the time by faculty and administrators because I’m viewed as an overpaid secretary. Forget my above average IQ, my BA, my demonstrated intelligence, and on and on. I’m judged by my job title. Screw the elites. Leave people the fuck alone.

Whelp. Guess I won’t be wearing Levi’s anytime soon.

OMFG Awesome. Tell me again how smart PhDs are?  ARRRRRRRGH

Yeah no.

I read that as “arrested or reincarnated.”


OMG I’m so hot. This office is never comfortable. Never.

ouch mouse

I have never seen You’ve Got Mail and I’m completely OK with that.

I think I need a break.

What. It’s National Pizza Day?!?!?

Aloha Chicken should never be a pizza choice. Ever.

I’m stalled until one of these mfers decides to participate.

Who doesn’t save a copy of their work??

I hate the morning DJ on First Wave. His name is stupid and he pronounces it weird. Like Laahree instead of Lairee. Actually sometimes it sounds like Laahrleduck. Evidently it’s Larry the Duck. Which is a dumb name. This morning he played 99 Luftballons and then asked if anyone had ever heard the English version. Dude. Who the fuck hasn’t heard the English version??

You know what never gets old? You taking your mood out on me.

And now I’m freezing. Awesome.

This place is eating away at my soul.

Should we have tacos for dinner?

I’m hilarious.

I don’t give a shit about Nike or that idiot athlete, but the new memes are cracking me up.

I don’t know who you are, but I need to lock this door now.

I’ll be better company next week. I promise.

no really.


Random Wednesday

We did donuts in the parking lot of Ted Bundy’s high school.

I hate you new Gmail.

They said I was on the membership list. I’m not on the membership list.

S:?EGLHS:OIBNB”oIHSE’PRH “PEngb”SpboSOirgNWEOTINAW:OibS”BOin (this is my frustration speaking)

Why no, that is not my job, but I’ll be doing it anyway.

How many times have you looked at the job postings today, Jennifer?

I ask you, how is it even possible for anything short of a 20 man crew to steal $100,000 worth of ramen?? That’s roughly 400,000 packages of noodles. Who needs that much ramen??

Talk about yer oodles o noodles.

I just wish I could understand the WHY of so very many things.

Man. Watching Poldark. People are treacherous. Scheming and backstabbing and lying. Good grief. Must be bloody exhausting.

There is something in my eye and it really hurts.

You just really don’t understand the concept of standing outside the cube and knocking, do you? Not even a little.

I’m thinking of just changing my name to Hen because I mistype Jen so freaking regularly.

This is my current favorite playlist.

I find that sort of disturbing.

Yay pizza! I love you guys.

Not a good way to start my day, random stranger student person.

What is the deal with this piano lately?

Give me your money, please.

Shit. It’s already so late. Stupid first day of the semester. It’s been NUTS.

Um. Why is my kid’s head bleeding?????

OK, everything is fine. No stitches required. All is well.


Oh good. It’s that time of year where every RSO on campus begs me for space in my building.


Holy shit, the onslaught just does not stop. HOW IS TODAY NOT OVER YET???

I don’t know that I would refer to abortion as “self care” EVER.

Christ I could use a cup of tea.

my aim is true

I knew as soon as I spent money on this lost ID situation the damn thing would turn up. I was not wrong.

Well this is just going to have to post late. That’s all there is to it.

So. Much. Reading.


OMG that is riDICulous.

Gotta wrap these photos up.


Is it going to rain again? Who can say?

I don’t know where the Wyandottes are.

WordPress thinks I mean antidotes. I do not.

I should just give photography up entirely.

That is not your nose.

burger burger burger



The Trespasser – An Epilogue

still life with book cover

You guys.

I did it. I pushed through. I actually finished the bloody Trespasser. And you know what?

I’m going to throw in a pretty photo of a random Irish castle as a buffer because there be spoilers below.

I don’t know who took this gorgeous photo, but it was not me. I only wish it were. Good on you random gorgeous Irish castle photog.

You know what?

It never got any better.

I know you thought I was going to say “You know what? It was so worth it! It got soooooo good at the end!” I know you thought I was going to say the book totally redeemed itself and lived up the the Tana French standard we’ve all come to know and love and expect.

I am so sorry to disappoint you, chickens. But it just did not.

Worse yet, the only possible character I could see her basing the next Dublin Murder Squad installment on is kind of awful, and also it seemed like he was getting the axe anyway, so I have no clue.

Unless she goes with the one completely random guy thrown in just to be a pain in the ass and sound like a complete and utter dick. In which case, no thanks.

And then I thought wait. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the team that she’s keeping around for the duration. Conway and Moran. Perhaps all future tomes set in that tumultuous Irish city will center around this intrepid team. This “I’ve miraculously resolved my daddy issues in this two page arc” and “If only I could beat my partner over the head with all the obvious clues instead of just coming right out and SAYING WORDS she’ll fucking get it” dynamic duo.

If that is indeed the way of it, I’m afraid I’m out, Ms. French. I’ll be forced to hang up my fan club hat forevermore.

Settle down, I don’t really have a Tana French hat. Do they even make Tana French hats?

Oh wait, I just remembered Fleas. Yeah, I could see that happening. Still not terribly enticing, but better than the previously mentioned possibles I suppose. Really Fleas is the only logical choice for the next book.

Honestly, I was so frustrated through this whole book. And it just went on and on and on until all of a flipping sudden it was over. Like “oh shit, I’ve been prattling on for days as if I were actually Conway wallowing in my own self inflicted misery, and I nearly forgot to actually finish solving the mystery that pretty much any reader with half a brain has gone ahead and solved by now because the murderer could obviously only be one of two people.” Boom. The end.

I get no satisfaction from this whatsoever, just so we’re clear.

Also, if I suddenly go missing after slagging Tana French, you might want to look into her mob connections.

Praying for your comeback, Tana! Fingers crossed for the next one! Maybe the one-off The Witch Elm will be just the break you needed from the Squad. Let’s all hope, shall we? Plus, hey, it’s based on an actual unsolved mystery, right?

Course your name’s bigger than the title on that cover as well …


Random Wednesday

No. Really. Stop doing that. I’m so serious.

I need some mirrorless in my life.

I’ve been writing this letter for three fucking months. Longer. I don’t even know. This letter is older than I am.

What would you have done with the leftover cats?

I just read this sentence and almost peed my pants laughing: “Hollywood continues to be a deeply conservative place where coming out doesn’t feel like an option.”

I’m not expecting a thank you card, but a simple “hey thanks for that really thoughtful thing you did” in passing is common fucking courtesy.

Why would you ever put a comma there? In what universe does that make sense?

Listen. Just because there’s caramel involved does not mean you are morally obligated to add “sea salt” to it. First of all, salt is salt. Secondly, not everyone is a fan.

Too much goddamn estrogen in this office. Which means there is also too much goddamn perfume in this office. I am probably suffocating right now.

Stop putting an apostrophe in Nachos Deluxe. I beg of you.

Your perfume smells like Lysol. It’s awful.

Well there go my lunch plans. Dammit.

It’s like a script she’s memorized. She just jumps from person to person repeating it.

No one knows that that’s a picture of Murray Rothbard. And it makes me so happy to have hidden it in plain sight.

I probably needed more deodorant this morning.

Even so, I still smell better than your perfume.

I quite often wish I still smoked.

I don’t know. On the one hand you think, “How could you not know your husband was a serial killer?” But on the other hand, most people are purposely obtuse, particularly when they choose to spend their lives with sociopaths.

I’m probably taking it too personally, but when you know something is my job, I find it a teensy bit insulting when people say “are you able to” do something. It’s offensive, really. Obviously I’m bloody well able.

Just don’t come back dead and it’ll be all good.

Well I’d like to visit those places, but my life won’t be ruined if I don’t.

I’m digging this fella quite a bit.

So … you and your perfume are just here all day then are ya?

There are a handful of people to whom I speak very formally in electronic communication.

You know what sucks? Selling your house.

But. I don’t need to buy eggs.

Man my head hurts today.

so. much. dumb.

It’s a lot of shoes.

Everyday is Halloween.

money! gimme some money!


Or I could just buy some skulls.

Ahhhhh. There it is. The My Favorite Murder fandom has begun to feast on the flesh of the podcast hosts. It was only a matter of time, really.

Please. Just don’t be in a foul mood.

Awesome. Because changing our passwords every 6 months wasn’t torture enough. No. Now we have to use two factor authentication for our database login. Fucking yay.

Why would I want the Nancy Grace book? That woman is AWFUL.

I wish I had a chocolate chip scone right now.

Doing anything publicly is inherently dangerous these days. There’s a mob around every corner, just waiting to devour you.

‘There’s a hole in the world. Seems like we ought to have known.’


Random Wednesday

I gotta get some new photos uploaded. Quit recycling these old ones.They are some of my favorites though.

Who even is that guy?

i would change for you

It’s true. I’ve pretty much abandoned all hope. It’s OK. I’m getting used to it.

Maybe the ACLU should think about a name change, some rebranding … (It’s funny cos I typed that name change comment before I’d even reached the end of the article. Looks like Reason has the same idea.)

I regret that purchase. Immensely.

Gah those ears. Maybe fighting is the wrong career move.

Well, she dropped a pebble in the outrage pool. It’s only a matter of time now.

I’ve processed my Gaiman grief and am moving on with my life.

Nice alliteration, jackass.

I guess if you’re gonna jump out of your car to dance for a video like a moron, you sort of have those injuries coming. Because you’re a moron.

but babe that doesn’t mean

I am having trouble figuring out how to talk to a human.

Can’t I just wave a magic wand or something?

I thought that said “Certified Fight Trainer.” It did not.

I’ll probably never be described as “beloved.”

Yes, it really has been that long since I had a pedicure.

I still don’t like avocados.

I love this woman so much.

Chick-fil-A has been here for what, two years now? And I’ve somehow only managed to eat there one time. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

Look, it’s right on my end.

But I don’t have a coroner’s note.

It’s funny cos it’s true.


Oooooh Premium Class! Heeeeyy!

No. No, I am not.

i’m gonna be a better man

Well, that was nearly painless right up until the end.

Nothing like an English major that can’t spell.

By the time I realized I hadn’t posted it was nearly midnight.


oh oooh oh oh I am SO SORRY NOW

First Wave plays WAY too much Smiths. And U2.

I feel like if I had company more often, my house would be cleaner more. But then I’d have to deal with people more. It’s a trade off, I suppose. I can live with the mess of my people. To a point.

How is The Lost Boys 30 years old? Jesus. How am I that old?


OK, signing off. Fair week+ chaos ensues.

Also, sorry this was a shorter one. I had a stupid 5 hour staff meeting Wednesday.

Don’t hate me if I don’t post next week. It’s the busiest week of the year.


Random Wednesday

I think 6 credits might be a bit much.

Just because I know where it is doesn’t mean I have  any intention of sharing that information with you.

Maybe she doesn’t want me to test knit for her any more.

Well, that was weird.

That’s never happened before. You make a donation through GoFundMe and they fucking charge the donator for it and call it a tip? Screw you, GoFundMe.

I should just switch to boxer briefs.

I think saying “most women” is a dangerous exaggeration.

Yeah, but where you gonna get cloudberries?

Might be fun. Might be weird. I do not know.

This guy sounds like a self righteous, virtue signalling douche, but it’s his company and he can do what he wants. People don’t have to work there. Marion Nestle will be my college’s keynote speaker at our lecture series this fall, coincidentally.

You can’t take my meat from me!

“It is therefore unfair and inaccurate to point a finger at Flint and repeatedly use the word “poisoned.” All it does is terrify the parents and community members here who truly believe there may be a “generation lost” in this city, when there is no scientific evidence to support this conclusion.”

Finally made it through The Staircase. I hate all of those people. And obviously he murdered his wife.

I really should have made those notes in a different notebook. Dammit.

I need to just accept the sad sad fact that I will be stuck in this job until I die. I wonder how many more deans I’ll have to get used to before that happens.

I’m just happy Matt Berninger finally came to his senses about his stupid hair.

I never even finished the last Doctor Who series. I seriously doubt I’ll be tuning in for the chick.

So it’s not plausible to take actual quotes and pair them with stock photos? It happens all the time. It’s called advertising.

Evidently, I have lost readers. And here I thought adding new features would keep people interested.

It is just not really my thing.

Well great. Now I feel like a fat loser instead of just a loser. Yay.

I thought that said “bitch-perfect.” It did not.

No one is ever going to guess a password I used six fucking years ago. Frankly, I’d be shocked and flabbergasted if they guessed a password I used last week. JAYSUS.

They used to call me the Queen of Ektar. Now I am a woman without a realm.

The book was better is true of just about everything except anything written by Stephen King.

Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo tired.

Who’s call is it then?

Blah blah blah, yeah, we get it.

I don’t like you right now, pal.

Maybe he’s just a serial killer.

I am clearly that kind of grandma.

Yeah, I’ve never been wild.

Do you think they meant to call them sandwinches?

FINALLY. My favorite Triscuits are back in stock!

That is some seriously shady shit.

But bitch-perfect should totally be a thing, right? It’s pretty fantastic.


That Libertarian candidate for governor in the Mitten REALLY should have had someone proof their websites. Good Lord. It’s embarrassing. I think I like the other guy better anyway. Although the other guy’s website is rife with double spaces after periods. Kind of appalling.

Confirm humanity. Ha. Look, checking that box can confirm someone is human, but I’m not sure it can legitimately confirm their humanity.

“Improve and expand surveillance systems.” … Is that really the language we should be using?

This may be my first ever no vote on the library millage.

I really don’t like John Lithgow.

Great. Now it’s stuck in my head.

As soon as I put this Triscuit in my mouth the phone will ring.

See? Told you.

I just want Cuban pulled pork for every meal.


The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck

We can clearly see that I have reached the stage of not giving a fuck about what my hair looks like in this humidity. 

This book is so effective that I don’t even give enough of a fuck to finish it. (Just kidding, it just wasn’t that interesting.)

In other words, I’m not impressed. I mean I picked this book up because I was genuinely looking for a way to care less about shit in my endless pursuit of zennishness. Work shit. Political shit. Work shit. Self righteous virtue signally shit. Work shi- yeah, you know, just a lot of work shit. I thought, “Maybe this is like when Peter is hypnotized in Office Space and he just doesn’t give a fuck any more and somehow becomes wildly successful at work. Cos I need to be Peter.” But yeah, it’s not.

Manson fills all these pages up with gems like “Life is essentially an endless series of problems. The solution to one problem is merely the creation of another,” and “Don’t just sit there. Do something. The answers will follow,” or “In my life, I have given a fuck about many people and many things. I have also not given a fuck about many people and many things. And like the road not taken, it was the fucks not given that made all the difference,” like some drunken frat boy philosophizing at a kegger in the hopes of getting laid.

Kudos to you, Mark Manson, for saying a bunch of crap everyone already knows and has said a million times and capitalizing on it. Credit where it’s due. But I’m gonna have to hop off your bandwagon on this one.

“The desire for more positive experience is itself a negative experience. And, paradoxically, the acceptance of one’s negative experience is itself a positive experience. This is a total mind-fuck. So I’ll give you a minute to unpretzel your brain and maybe read that again …”

Here’s how I’ma “unpretzel” my mind: by throwing this book in the burn pile. I’m not even going to donate this bitch. I’d hate to have any part in perpetuating its circulation.

I’m not even normally the self help type. It’s all so much touchy feely lie back and tell me all about it while we get in touch with our inner child and soothe it to sleep with milk and cookies foolishness, in my view. I don’t really do FEEEEELINGS. So I think it’s safe to say I was at a pretty low point in the course of events that led me to picking this book up. Plus, let’s face it, I’m a sucker for a book that so blatantly flaunts the fuck word. (Though it would have been more daring to drop the ink splat in the title. So much for not giving a fuck.)

Or is this book supposed to be tongue in cheek? Humor? A self help mockery? I honestly don’t know. But I don’t think it is. I think it’s dead fucking serious.

Of course, what do I know? I’m not a best selling author, I just trash their books on my blog. (Which I would feel kind of bad about, but I’ve remembered how to not give a fuck. And a lot of these books really do suck. Also that wasn’t even the point of this series in the first place. I need to get back to books that are actually good, but that I just keep putting down.)

I’ll tell you this though: This book reminded me precisely why I don’t read self help. So, I guess there’s that.

You wanna know how to not give a fuck? Just don’t give a fuck. Also a little Xanax never hurt either.

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