Introduction: My job is stupid. Don’t get me wrong, I like pay checks and employment, as I lack other methods for collecting said pay check, but working is just dumb. To clue you in to the environment of my mental personal hell, I’ve included a scene from this mornings antics: Method One: Boss: “Did you
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This comic is actually based on a true story. This guy Eileen and I knew in college did this exact thing, only instead of a hotdog, it was human being.
A hasty survey (taken at parties when I say I am going to powder my nose, but really I am checking out their fridges) of my friend’s fridges (and pantries) reveals that certain people can live without quinoa. Few of my friends are spelt-lovers. Few take the time to cut fruit with a fruit knife in the European manner—there are lots of packages of Wegman’s pre-cut melon.
How would I go about throwing a fancy dinner party for upwards of 50 guests? Stage One: Denial What? Fifty people didn’t really respond to the Evite. It’s not like they all don’t know you live in a two-bedroom apartment. They don’t expect you to cook anything – you have an abortion for a kitchen,
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