When I get drunk I get these crazy thoughts like "let's go vandalize the Center for God, Family and Country."

It really exists, too.

"You should read this" of the day/week/year:

I discovered Stephen Elliott (I say that like Columbus, like I was the first person to find him and claim him, but really he was quite talented and awesome before I was cognizant of such) in McSweeney’s, issue #21, and fell in love. Then I discovered him on Twitter, which lead me to this…

The Rumpus and The Adderall Diaries. 

Don’t you dare fucking enter the contest and deprive me of this win, but do fucking go get yourself a copy, follow Stephen Elliott on twitter, borrow my copy of McSweeney’s and  fall in love for yourself, and read The Rumpus. THERE IS EVEN A SEX SECTION!

I just went on a "date" and realized I left the tags on the new Express cardigan I was wearing.

I KNEW I MISSED ONE.

I’m embarrassed in retrospect. Also a little tipsy.

I'd be okay with snow on Thanksgiving...

no matter how much that fucks up my plans of “WHO DOESN’T BELIEVE IN GLOBAL WARMING NOW, BITCHES?!?!!” 

Silly grandparents.

MY TUMBLARITY HAS DROPPED BY 20 AND I AM REALLY ALLERGIC TO CATS.

fuck fuck fuck

Hey, Discovery Channel, how's about a whale week? Huh? Are we cool?

This TV only gets PBS. So far, I’m turned on.