“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.

1 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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