Everything Hurts

As a child I used to like to brag about how many injuries I had acquired. Each open wound, scar, allergy, and bump signified notches on my ladder of life accomplishments. As my injury count rose, so did my tier of badassery.

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Hair For Your Enjoyment

Women who play with their hair drive me just a little bit crazy. I am aware this can be a nervous tic, but ladies, you’re lovely just the way you are. But after a recent experience of being down wind from a woman and her shedding ponytail, I felt I needed to get a little bit off my, not yet hairy, chest.

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More Things To Worry About

  I love using paper towels. I feel like it’s the most baller thing I do. How decadent is it to get a clean opportunity to wipe away my dirty problems. But yet, I feel guilty with every towel I tear off that poofy roll. Yes, I buy recycled, and yes it is probably the repurposed […]

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March Madness

I don’t profess to know anything about anything in this world: not computers, not the proper way to cook pasta, not the correct way to pronounce the word, “niche”. But I do wonder, about “sneaking” up on a crook with giant a helicopter in flight.

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Learning To Curse When You’re 8.

Let’s discuss the phrase, “shit from shinola”. This is one of those phrases I grew up hearing amidst casual grown-up parent talk.   “Forget working with Bob. He doesn’t know shit from shinola.” I’d overhear my dad saying on the phone, as 7-year-old me would be rolling around on the floor, mastering my breakdancing moves. I remember […]

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