This makes total sense... not really.

I’m glad the portrait of Ben Franklin stayed the same on the new $100 bill. There’s something about his slight, tight frown, the paternal hint of disappointment in his eyes and those pursed, sealed lips that seem to say, “I don’t approve of what you’re doing, but I can’t stop you from rolling this banknote into a straw and ripping a fat rail of white lightning in the Buffalo Wild Wings handicapped bathroom stall, you goddamn beautiful disaster." 

(Shameless edit since I see so many notes on my little post here - I wrote a book full of similarly long, rambling sentences that terminate in a reference to B-Double-Dubs. It’s called White Whine and I’d be thrilled if you checked it out?)

I can’t believe that the government is watching our every move and yet they refused to warn me that I was about to walk into a Panera where THREE of my exes were working together.

Hey, the government? You could’ve texted me. You’ve got GPS; they’ve got their jobs on Facebook; I know you know we dated. You knew, you have the technology, and you just let me walk in there, make eye contact with them, and walk out without ordering anything. Fuck you. I hate this country.

Horny for love and knowledge

Don’t get me wrong, sex is great, but I would rather spend the night learning everything about you and hearing every story you have. To me, that’s far more intimate.

Get this geek ass shit off my dashboard this bitch wants to get Railed !!!

Roman finger ring with a phallus in relief.  

Image from the Thorvaldsen Museum via their online collection: H1816

my wedding ring

on this day, we appreciate julius caesar who, as he fell to the ground after being stabbed 23 times, held his toga in a such a way as not to indecently expose himself

that’s classy but if i got stabbed 23 times, my jeans would hit the floor before i did and EVERYONE who stabbed me is seein my dick

we are the last generation whose baby photos weren’t taken on phones

yeah and? 200 years ago they had oil paintings life goes on

when i die all i want is to become on of those cats who lives around archaeological sites in greece and rome, sun myself while surrounded by remnants of antiquity, and make visitors wonder if i am perhaps some reincarnated ancient soul returning to the home i loved millennia ago

i have a paper due at 11:59 and i’m too busy wallowing in self pity to finish it