Literally every time anyone says “implied” I have to say, “implied or implode?”

There is nothing sexy about a scorched pan.

These have been a godsend. I wish someone had told me about them before.

For a warm city, I recommend these. I brought three pairs of shoes to Tokyo with me and wore these almost exclusively because of how comfortable/not ridiculous with dresses they were.

Most of my spam calls come from the same area code as my cell phone. I keep getting the “let me adjust my headset” call on multiple numbers from my area code.

I also live in this city—at least one reason I’ve seen why nothing is organized locally is because it’s a privileged concept that can’t be for all or even most women.

This probably says more about me than it does about this tip, but I am hard-pressed to think of any single household chore that takes 5 minutes or less. (Even the ones in the Apartment Therapy article).

The last time I flew, they “merged” everyone else into the pre-check line. It doesn’t matter if you don’t have to take off your shoes and take your laptop out if the 50 people in front of you do. Hopefully they stop doing that.

Oh man, all of this—especially that first one. Can I count the number of times I’ve said “Are you fucking kidding me?!” this week over shit that wasn’t even that bad? I normally like my job and want to like it again.

I am cry-laughing about the spinach salad. You can just picture it.

On the last day of 6th grade we had to go around the room and say something nice about the person sitting next to us. The person who had to say something about me, a dickwad named Dustin, said, “Because Ziggy’s a loner, she’ll always listen to your problems if you need to talk.”

There was very much a “You think you’re cool? WELL YOU’RE FUCKING NOT!” tone to this. Christ. Was anyone even saying that they’re edgy for thinking she’s hot?

Sadly, I don’t think she’ll ever stop believing her own hype.

I was totally into this until I realized that it was from Madonna. With a title like that, that song has to be from literally anyone else to be acceptable.

That’s the face of “what the fuck have I gotten myself into.”

I am so goddamn glad to have had the world’s most boring wedding.

RIP, I’ll miss the self-esteem boost from your vanity sizing.

Yeah, I was bleeding too. I guess I whined, “but it tastes badddddd” and he just didn’t say anything else because he didn’t want me to have a drug induced melt-down in the parking lot of the grocery store. I ended up getting dry socket though, which totally sucked.

I had mine taken out as an adult. My husband stopped at the store on our way home to get me some juice or gatorade or whatever, but I was still hella high from the anesthesia. The first thing I can remember is him hissing at me in the grocery store parking lot to quit spitting.

Ha! I sometimes see that stuff. My husband is pretty great too, but that’s not a brag and more of a “why would I settle for someone who’s not?”