When my theory turns out correct re: Beyoncé actually being a loaf of bread, I expect some credit.

I’m in the same boat as you—planning a slow withdrawal so I’m not getting stressed or have to stay any longer than my sanity/body can handle.

Unless the improv show is in an attic. With lots of old trunks and a chained-up relative that no one speaks of. Then, it’s awesome.

That one is filled with crushed Ambien.

How do you think I’ve survived this election year?

That’s exactly what my Kellogg’s Rice Krispies said.

My Kellogg’s Rice Krispies are talking, too.

I think Buzzfeed did that exact video two minutes ago.

Come out to Chicago!

So, you want to live with Babar the elephant?

Grungeworld. Seattle in the early 90s, when Kurt was still alive and no one gave a fuck about the Seahawks.

Will your mourners be required to throw fistfuls of gummi frogs on your casket?

It’s between the debate and Ghostbusters 2016 with my roommate who said she would vote for Carly Fiorina if she was nominated and Hillary wasn’t. I have picked the debate.

Trumpunzel, Trumpunzel

...she’s a bottle of maple syrup?

Shame pizza! Nothing like Mama Cozzi’s, $1.99 at your finer establishments.

Hell yes. Fuck this week. After a stomach bug, a sinus infection, getting doored by a car and losing track of my own schedule, I have come to several conclusions:

Absolutely.

Angie is wishing doom upon her enemies, just for you.

Viaduct?