Hey Facebook Fam!
Big news! I’ve decided to live in a van down by the river! 🚐🌊🙌
You’re probably saying to yourself, “Wow, why didn’t I think of ditching my job and my home and my family to live in a van down by the river?”
Well, I’ve been following a lot of #RVlife posts on the IG and I couldn’t stop thinking about how great it would be to live in a van down by the river!
And then I watched that movie Nomadland with Frannie McDormand, and maybe I took the scene about pooping into a bucket the…
First of all, I’d like to apologize for thinking you were a groundhog. But it’s dark in my basement, and you’ve taken up residence in an old coal chute in a hundred-year-old house, so cut me some slack. I’ve got a lot going on, not least of which is ancient electrical wiring, snakes in my bedroom, and now a feral tub of lard who contributes nothing towards the heating bill.
Somehow you came in from the outside (I’m still trying to Nancy Drew that one), chewed through the drywall compound and screening that covered the hole in the…
Dearest Mother —
I write to you from doggy jail, a Hellish place from which all hope has fled. The conditions here are unspeakable. My bedding is but a scrap of fabric thrown carelessly to the floor by the Warden (that would be you).
My cell contains no couch. No recliner. No second couch. No comfy pillows upon which to drool and fart. No Queen-size Sealy Posturepedic to lie across diagonally so that no one else has room to sleep except for one inch of mattress right at the edge.
And worst of all (I beg that you steel yourself…
or Why Everything That Is Good For You Sucks
I remember the old days when only hippies did yoga. People who looked like they smelled bad and had dirty feet. Swamis and whatnot. Kooks, weirdos. John Lennon. Ralph Nader, probably (I have not researched this). People who drove VW Bugs, and not the hip, cute VW Bugs that are out there now. These were Bugs that always had at least one fender scraping the tire.
I’m not sure we’ve actually progressed that far, the only difference being that now the hippies wear Lululemon and Jo Malone perfume. …
My boss believes in the “magic bullet” theory of weight loss. If I had all the money he’s spent on raspberry ketones and Atkins Shakes, I could pay off my house. Every so often I open the cupboard above his desk to see what new miracle potion or pill he’s bought to erase the spare tire around his middle.
I sympathize. As a teenager, I took Dexatrim (remember Dexatrim? It’s fun when companies name things after illegal street drugs). It didn’t help me lose weight, it just gave me heart palpitations.
But taking a pill was easier than confronting the…
A lawnmower is a big investment, so you should research the matter thoroughly. Ideally, the perfect lawnmower will mow the lawn while you lay on the couch binge-watching the first two seasons of The Office. But since that’s called a “lawn service” and you can’t afford that, you’re going to have to settle for a lesser model.
How about one of those zero-turn babies? They’re like your dad’s version of the Millenium Falcon. …
I’ve posted more here in the last two weeks than I have in months. I’ve also gained another two pounds. Coincidence?
I think not.
At the rate of one pound per week, I’ll weigh close to 500 pounds by this time next year. When they need to knock out a wall to airlift me to the nearest hospital, I’m going to send the bill to Ev Williams. One of his underlings will pay it without blinking an eye.
Let me just go grab some walnuts while I think about this some more. Walnuts are healthy, right? Omega-somethings and whatnot? But…
Dear Courtney Burry (if that is your real name),
Wow, jealous much? Frankly, your missive left me aghast.
Yes, I have hundreds, hundreds of eyes, and I can procreate like nobody’s business. I also have eight (pretty sure it’s eight) legs and these pincer things in front that look like fuzzy little T-rex arms.
Just because you only have four limbs (and really, you gotta admit, the upper left one is pretty useless), two measly eyes and ZERO pincers, I don’t see why you feel the need to hurl such vindictiveness at me.
I was just enjoying a night out…
It’s been a long winter, and you might be wondering, “Am I even a human being anymore, or have I turned into a houseplant?”
The following will help you decide whether you are in fact a neglected Dracaena massangeanas, or perhaps the more hardy Monstera deliciosa or “Swiss cheese plant”, or whether you’re just a particularly pathetic example of Homo sapiens.
Legal secretary by day, insomniac by night. BA, MA. I ❤ dogs. @pointsincase, The Funny Times. Twitter: @blade_funner