The Lindsay Shoockus story is all about how she went to SoulCycle in Cannes and “was quickly the center of attention”. And somehow everyone knew it was her birthday and made a big fuss.

Your film shoot horror story is that you were a jerk to a group of PAs who were just doing their jobs?

As someone from Cleveland back in the 90s that was a lot of money. $300 was a month of rent downtown! But by that logic she should have offered $5000 for a spot in Manhattan.

I’m pretty sure that poor people across the globe own cars. They’re cheaper to maintain than houses. Anyway, I’m team florist because a $300 day rate is having a laugh. Sounds like a figure a rich person would throw out when guessing how much the poors make daily labouring on their lord’s estate.

“Everyone has their truth.” I’m really tired of hearing people say the “I’m speaking my truth” bs and variations of it. My truth, his truth, her truth and their truth....Nah, there’s only THE truth and the rest are your feelings and/or lies. If I punch you in the face and tell the world that my truth is that you ran…

Yeah, Sofia strikes me as that particularly heinous breed of born-rich person who, because money has no meaning to them, thinks a pittance should be enough for anyone else.

$300 is a bullshit offer. A friend of mine came come to find L&O shooting on his front stoop and had this conversation:

Thanks for sharing your story.  It seems like he has personally touched a lot of people.  His influence has taken many forms.  

Davey was my best and only friend from k-6th grade and really gave credence to the final words in the movie Stand By Me, “I never had any friends later on like I had when I was 12.” Rather, I am 43 now and I still have never found a friend quite like him later in life. Sadly I will never get to tell him face to face…

That article on jezebel this week about the NYT article discussing how men in heterosexual relationships don’t carry their fair share of house work really hit home for me. 

Hey all, update on my tall girl/ shirt guy situation from last week:

The staircase giveth and the staircase taketh away

I completely, and successfully, changed my personality for camp one summer. I am a shy and neurotic bitch, constantly fearful of rejection by my peers, who would genuinely prefer people not remember me than remember me for the wrong reasons. My picture does not appear at all in my high school year books, and I am so…

My summer reinvention was a reluctant and failed one.

I decided one summer to become a “dank hippie” and to me that meant wearing shirts with double entendres printed on them from American Eagle and linen skirts from Old Navy and Birkenstocks every day. Pretty sure I missed the mark.

I can see why some brides to be or former brides hate the term “bridezilla.” However, as a wedding vendor in two different disciplines, trust and believe that when you meet real-life bridezillas, you know exactly why the term exists.

1. Salmon jacket is our summer song of 2019. The song we deserve.

I know several women who lost their minds and their manners over their weddings...wonder how they will ever handle marriage, which is full of compromise and challenges...mine lastd 20+ years but every day was something...little things,giving in for peace, choosing battles etc. Living alone, even poor, is bliss for me.

I fucking hate that word. I am going so hard in the other direction so nobody calls me that, that I may very well hate everything about my wedding.

BraGa Ra Ah Ah BraGa Rah Ah Ah