humor

My life has been a long bumpy anxious ride. People often don’t understand my “quirky” behaviors due to anxiety. I’ve learned, over the years that it's not important what other people think. What matters is that I recognize when anxiety is coming out to play, and I punch that bitch in the face.

Let’s just all as a human race hold hands, sing kumbaya, and admit that ultrasound pics look like something out of Dia de Los Muertos rather than an actual human baby.

Though most associate this blessed occasion with Frank Costanza boisterously shouting “A Festivus for the rest of us!” and attempting to wrestle his own son to the ground, Festivus has an even richer history than you might imagine. The list of Festivus supporters is continually growing and the event’s practices are evolving at a rapid clip.

'Twas the Friday before the ELECTION FROM HELL, and all we needed was a good laugh...

A few weeks back, I got looped into an Instagram chat with some coworkers from one of my gigs, who were snarking about the fact that the

Chick Flick Cherry: If it’s about romance, it’s a chick flick. About love: chick flick. Maybe it’s about chickens. Poultry love. Either way: for you, I’ll watch it. So you can pop my cherry afterwards. My nail polish is just asking for it.

It’s summer, and if there’s one thing we can be sure of, it’s that you’re disgusting. You think you can just stuff any old body into a bathing suit? You need a special license for that. Nobody on the Internet even wants to masturbate to you!

It’s summer, and if there’s one thing we can be sure of, it’s that you’re disgusting. You think you can just stuff any old body into a bathing suit? You need a special license for that. Nobody on the Internet even wants to masturbate to you!