“it ain’t my birthday but I got my name on the cake”

– Nonetheless: three words for the price of one.

– Sometimes, when on the street, I am approached by someone in a blue vest holding a clipboard that barks, “DO YOU HAVE A MINUTE FOR GAY RIGHTS TODAY?????” Most people, myself included, pass these people by as if they were homeless begging for money. That being said, I often wonder whether the question is asked to a very eccentricly gay person that loudly responds, “I GOT MY WHOLE LIFETIME FOR GAY RIGHTS, DELICIOUS!”

“Where do I sign? And where do I get one of those vests they are cuhhh-youte!”

– I downloaded a new tool for email called “Yesware” that allows you to see when people open the messages you sent them. Initially I was all about it, but now, as opposed to being in the dark, I am well informed as to exactly who ignores me and for how long.

– MLK Day, when read quickly, makes me think it is actually MILK Day.

see what I did there?

– I watched 10 minutes of 1600 Penn and wanted to kill myself. #mikescritiques

– Restrooms: The one place where sexual discrimination is not only permissible, it’s encouraged.

“You’re not welcome here women! GET OUT! Ya’ll are women!!! You don’t belong here.”

– I had a dream last night that was entirely in Spanish. This is something I thought was only reserved for people that gained fluency. Either I am now magically fluent in Spanish, or that episode of Locked Up Abroad set in Colombia really hit home.

– A documentary about the show “How It’s Made” would be called “How, ‘How It’s Made’ is Made.”

– Brooklyn in the winter time looks like a Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou costume party. It honestly, really does.

“sun, just set already. no more happiness. god.”

– Would you rather have a pretty pen or a stylish stylus?

– Johnny Cash was famous for performing in prisons back in the 1960’s. Why don’t artists today follow his unique example?

Oh, because these guys would love to rape Skrillex.

One thought on ““it ain’t my birthday but I got my name on the cake””

  1. You’re actually kinda funny.

    In my experience, pretty pens don’t write well at ALL which for a writer is murder. Ideas don’t meander in the brain. They are shinkansen (bullet trains) from ear to ear and if you don’t get them out, they are GONE. Give me a .99 cent back of Bics any day.

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