I don’t Black Friday shop. Being five-foot-two, I have never had the desire to be trampled into a human pancake, black heel imprints on my forehead.
I work hard to clear up the skin on my forehead. I don’t want footprints on it. Acne products are expensive, man.
However, Friday (yes, The Friday, Black Friday, the big kahoona), giddy from getting my hair done, I waltzed to my nearest Best Buy, blissfully unaware of the ugly shopper’s flurry that surrounded me.
Continue reading ➞ Cody, My Hero
The mailman did something DESPICABLE…
He left my package on the front porch.
Continue reading ➞ Mission: [PACKAGE RETRIEVAL]
I get my best brainstorming done in the bathroom—from my reign on the porcelain throne, if you will.
I am convinced this is normal. Everyone else is just too ashamed to admit it.
I don’t know why. It’s not like admitting a failed remembrance of the socially demanded hand washing ritual; a story to which, at parties, you are repeatedly forced to wail, ‘that was ONE time!’
Continue reading ➞ Thoughts From The Bathroom