Loony spiced up our morning by some forced togetherness amongst That Fucking Cat and Scheissehund. I never knew that cats could roll their eyes.
I hope one day he will become a writer. Not because I think being a writer makes you special or worthy, but because I really like what he has to say and the way he says it.
Someone would come to the door and he’d let it swing open slowly and say, “Sure is dark on that porch. Ain’t you afraid of getting jumped?” Then when the person stuttered a reply, “Speak up boy! What the hell is wrong with you? Ain’t you never seen a black man before?”
I thought it would be really funny to name my dog Tardigrade and call him Tard for short and then when someone glared at me for being so insensitive and offensive I would be like, “It’s short for Tardigrade. What did you think it was short for?” and watch them twist.
I present to you Le Coop Du Jour. Like soup du jour but with a coop. That’s French for coop of the day because they use it during the day. And coop rhymes with soup. Get it?
I woke up around midnight to MSNBC and I seriously could not tell if I was watching satire or actual news, it was simply that crazy.
If you were wondering if my two-week absence was due to alcohol poisoning or being in a 30-day rehab, you would be wrong.
After taking one fall and experiencing zero pain, I realized that the mountain was my bitch.
A Bat Mitzvah was the perfect thing for me to do on NYE and still be able to be in bed and/or drunk posting by 9:00.
I had the most remarkable conversation with Scratchy. I’ve never seen a kid as brave as him. He told me all the things he was scared of, all the fears, anxieties and worries that CENTER AROUND FEAR OF DISPLEASING ME. Oh god.