U R A RA?
A pink thong greeted me as I got off the elevator. I wouldn’t have thought it to be that weird if it wasn’t still attached to its owner.
A pink thong greeted me as I got off the elevator. I wouldn’t have thought it to be that weird if it wasn’t still attached to its owner.
“The worst part of going through labor is you’re not allowed to smoke a celebratory cigarette in the emergency room,” according to my mother. My mom is a certifiable badass. Read the rest of this entry »
Dear Mr. Heckler,
I first would like to apologize for not succumbing to your requests. As a comedienne and entertainer, it is my priority that every one who sees me perform – whether by choice or not – enjoy themselves as much as possible.
I was a pretty average teenager; I wrote a lot of poetry and hated my dad. Do you need any more proof? That’s why I never had much of an interest revisiting the place where my misery manifested itself: Deerfield High School.