I was strolling down the street today seriously eyeing a really good looking guy. Just as he made eye-contact, a snowflake went directly up my nose. I made one of those I’m Drowning noises, shook my head side-to-side, and thought “Why god, why?”
And then I was all: “Is this an act of god or like a random act of coincidence?”
And then I was all: “Fuck you existential crisis. I’m just trying to attract a husband not ponder the existence of god.”
And most of all: fuck you, snowflakes.
When your friend mentions their break up and you say: “Don’t worry, everything happens for a reason.”
Know that your friend wants to grab you by the collar with both hands, look you directly in the eyes, and say: “I’ll give you a reason to shut the FUCK up.”
Instead: smile politely, and resist the urge.
Is everyone else oh so very over the circle jerk that that is the cast and director of Lincoln? I watched those interviews with those blowholes on The Oprah Channel and my god these people with the compliments!
It just seems like it was one “Oh yes, working with Steven, he’s remarkable.” and a “Daniel was so entwined with his character…” after another.
And it’s like OH MY GOD WE GET IT WHITE PEOPLE ARE AWESOME.
Uuugh, and the Oscars: will we have to watch Jean Dujardin perform a verbal anallingus on Daniel Day-Lewis?
The answer is yes, and all I can say is I’d rather watch him actually preform anallingus than sit there and listen to it.
Also, I get it: it’s an important story and blah blah blah but I have had enough of it already.
Oh yeah i meant to tell you:
I went to the Fiona Apple concert a week ago and it CHANGED MY LIFE. For the better. So I’m a little better than you.
So I’ve never been a big fan of breakfast. If I do eat it, it’s usually accompanied by a cartoon character pushing it’s sugary realness by telling me how gr-r-reat it is.
Breakfast is just dressed-up bread. Pancakes, waffles, muffins, french toast, it’s all one form of bread mixed with some other sweet shit made to irritate my stomach. If I wanted bread, I’d eat a loaf of it. And eggs, who just sits around and craves eggs? No one, that’s who, poor people eat eggs when there’s nothing left in the fridge. I’ll eat eggs on my own terms, scrambled, with cheese, burned, and when I have no money in my bank account.
My friends have been doing brunch lately, and I begrudgingly come along. I’ve been taught that “brunch” is the time in-between “breakfast” and “lunch” hence the (uncute) mixture of the two words. I assume this is somewhere between 9am and noon. My grandfather used to make us go to brunch after church, during these hours. Restaurants seem to be serving this shit well up until 2pm! Put yourself in this hypothetical: you’re hungry, decide to go and eat at an establishment at 1pm, you would most likely expect lunch. The meal in the middle of the day, SINCE IT’S THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY. Instead, these dicks running the eatery impose their fascist bullshit “brunch” upon you. No burgers. No frenchfries. No chicken sandwiches. Just stupid egg-tacos and hotcakes.
Sure, they have bottomless mimosas, but at what cost? I’ll tell ya what cost, at the cost of those poor uneaten pizzas and hamburgers.
I feel like I’m the only one in the world who hates breakfast. Whenever this fact is revealed, it’s met with: “What’s wrong with you?” and “How can you not like breakfast?” Well, because it’s the worst thing to happen to meals, that’s how.