Now, I know what you’re thinkin’: “The best red velvet cake? Can’t be the best, what about Little Debbie?”

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love me a Little Debbie cake, as much as the next red-blooded southerner. But this recipe, passed down to me by my meemaw, Dorothy Birdie, is better than anything Little Debbie could bake. It’s sure to delight anyone come round for tea.

99 bottles of fear on the wall, 99 bottles of fear, take one down and pass it around, 100 bottles of fear on the wall. 

Feeling trapped? Angry at the world? Done with everyone’s bullshit? Then come on down to ScreamFest, where the only limits are your lung capacity!

The breakup was inevitable. When you get up every day with fond hopes but are met with nothing but passivity—when you continually think and dream about the object of your affection and concern but there is no reciprocity — it’s only natural to finally give up.

You created more charts and graphs than you care to admit. You ordered books from professors in all the programs and practically read them standing beside the mailbox. You realized application fees quickly add up and required you to cease “treating yo’ self” for a long while. Now all that’s left is time.