I’d Love to Join Your Book Club on the Following Conditions
When it’s my turn to choose the book and I pick a trashy romance novel, no members can audibly sigh or give off any sense of smug superiority.
When it’s my turn to choose the book and I pick a trashy romance novel, no members can audibly sigh or give off any sense of smug superiority.
All you have to do is have one true hiding place. Find the truest hiding place you know.
‘Twas something of a bloodbath, all told, but was this not what thou asked for? Well, Happy Father’s Day.
Take a breath and listen to the brag of the dust mites—I am, I am, I am. But you want them to be not.
Grab a vegan smoothie, plunge your feet into a bucket of ice, and allow yourself, like an eager guppy, to be reeled in by Tim Ferriss.
J. M. Coetzee: A boy who may or may not be Jesus battles racist zombies. Jean-Paul Sartre: Lucifer tricks a man into ordering a bad batch of escargots.
Charlotte’s Web: After reading this pathetic book, I threw it from the top of the Duomo, where it landed upon and killed a Political Realist.
Collabs; more inexpressible than all is the subtle brand selfie, mysterious partnerships, the life of which, while ours passes away, endures.
I was the one who asked for it, and I had a lot of success at first: one, two, three! Three brides! Ah, ah, ah!
“James, how did it get to this point?” I don’t know. I noticed some mold a while back, but nothing more aggressive than the average moist home.
The journey begins in 465 of the First Age, before the birth of Tuor, son of Huor, with three methods, given to the lords of the brush.
Andrew Cuomo: Intimidate, Inoculate, Incriminate Ted Bundy: Marry, Fuck, Kill Hamlet: Be, Not Be, Wonder Lil Nas X: Yee, Haw, Satan-Worship