Well, that’s certainly a crowbar to the face, isn’t it? It’s okay to be done with good things. I’ve been obsessed with this idea lately: that maybe good situations can keep you just as trapped as bad situations, sometimes. (If you’ve ever had an entire plate of cheese fries in front of you, you get where I’m going.) How many things are you holding onto just because it would be a shame to give them up? Because you invested the
Oh, look! I made it to 2022 without committing suicide. That is a pretty terrible thing to say, but if you know me, then you also know I am a pretty terrible person—at least, when it comes to: (a) Dealing with most people; (b) Pot roasts; and (c) Matching my underwear to my bra. (Though bonus points for really wanting to be that person. Do you know how many times I’ve bought matching sets, only to completely and totally rebel
I fantasize about pugs. Not the way other people fantasize about pugs, mind you—nuzzling them and squeezing them and squealing “oooohhhhhhh!!!!” before scooping them up in their arms for a welcoming, wet kiss (what is wrong with people). Rather, I want to put their tiny little gargoyle heads straight into a vise. (I thought about writing “meat grinder,” but that seems a bit much.) So far in life, I have had not one, but two pug sworn enemies, and I
Things I’ve learned to be wary of in life: Oklahoma. Normal people. People who say, “you like fish, you just haven’t tried it cooked THIS WAY!” (Oh yeah, Satan? Did you want to cut up my chicken for me, too?) Self-important narcissists who just like to hear themselves talk, and talk, and talk. (One time, in Dublin, I literally got up and took my drink into the bathroom—FOR AN HOUR.) People you can’t get off the phone (see number 4).
Good ideas require a courageous host. Oh god, did I just introduce a virus analogy? Please forgive me, but it’s true. There are so many ideas floating around out there, half of which are definitely in your shower at 7 o’clock in the morning (they’re always in the fucking shower, aren’t they?), and the other half happen just as you’re falling asleep at night—but you don’t want to wake yourself up, because you know if you grab your phone you’re
There’s a new Karen in town, and I’ve dubbed her The Karen K-3000. (Even though the “K” is redundant, it’s a head nod to the villain in the Terminator movies—clearly how all of my columns shall start now.) If you still have no idea who Karen is, let me be the first to tell you: it’s an official Wikipedia entry. And since we all know “Wikipedia-entry official” is the nerd’s version of a blue check on Instagram, then rest assured:
“I wish I could travel the world like you.” It was a comment left on a recent Facebook post, and admittedly, a comment I get often—but not one I like to receive. It depresses me, more than anything, how powerless most Westerners feel over their own lives. Anything is possible, in modern Western society, and yet, there’s a widespread perception that nothing is. I know you’ve got kids. And I know you’ve got a job. And I know you’ve got
