My kids hate my boyfriend.

They say he’s a dick. In my gut I agree with them. So when I say I’m going to break up with him they’re overjoyed. I tell them I can’t do it in person or on the phone. I’m too much of a coward and he’s too manipulative.

We won’t be granting you a visa to visit our museums so that you can view the artifacts we stole from your country, and we’re not returning them. 

Are you tired of feeling depressed? Worn-out by justifying your failures to your dwindling social circle? Sick of wasting thousands of dollars on a certified psychiatrist to bring up topics that you have carefully repressed?

Do you wish there was a better way? Well now there is.

Dear Whimsical Woodland Wonders Family Products Customer,

We are writing to notify you of a possible safety issue with one of our products. Our records indicate that you have purchased a potentially dangerous Whimsical Woodland Wonders Family item in the past.

I was born to be an artist. When I was in the womb, my mother listened to classical music. She claims my conducting gave her bruises. She also loved the oldies station. I did the twist until fluid filled my lungs, causing pneumonia. My natal constitution was made for La Vie Bohème. Although my parents were not very creative, my mother had anxiety. I am grateful for her contributions to my artistic temperament. With inherited neuroses and a weak immune system, I was destined for greatness.