I’m imagining how many muhfuckas HAVE to propose after all that “until they ALL can” positioning! Just imagine the Saturday morning conversations...

Lena Dunham, the perfect candidate to make gay marriage about herself.

I mean I get that getting married isn’t just about the wedding day it’s about the marriage but like. I thought it was sweet when people told me I’d make a beautiful bride, I don’t see what’s wrong with saying that. And I totally did make a beautiful bride. So there.

With a name like Goblinmarkets, I totally thought you already were.

This is fantastic! Now my neighbors can’t say shit about my giant blood stone circle in the backyard or the skeleton army I planted under their flower bed.

A whiteness of teenage girls ordering frappuccinos.

Except Ferrari guy. In the midst of all this evil-minded douchebaggery, Ferrari guy seems cheerful and benign.

The mother proceeds to tell my manager that I was extremely rude to them and that I lied to them about the wait time because I was “discriminating” (wat) against them.

Yes, always with this stuff. I can’t even count how many guys who were into me transferred their affections to one of my sisters as soon as they met them. Then they wouldn’t sleep with them and I wouldn’t sleep with them and WHO HAS A WEIRD FACE NOW DOUCHEBAG.

Someone tell me the third option was “Take the fish home and continue to raise it in a loving environment.” Please.

* I am trying really, really hard not to judge Chavez for ordering wings and fries at a Chinese restaurant. I am not succeeding.

We could start a Pissing Contest alone on the fucked up effects of “daughter labeling”.

My sister was the pretty, smart, and going-to-be-successful one, and I was nice but lazy (so wouldn’t amount to much).

My older sister was always “the pretty one” (I was “the smart one”) and it took me years to realize that they weren’t mutually exclusive! And all those dates I thought were really random? Weren’t! Those dudes actually liked me!

Every now and then guys will ask me if these are my “real eyes.” I’m pretty sure they’re asking if they’re colored contacts, like you said, but I’ve gotten to the point where I always reply, “No, I carved them out of a dead hobo’s skull.” It’s just confusing and off-putting enough to make them leave me alone.

Moms are neg ninjas.

I can’t tell you how many times in high school I heard “why can’t you be hot like you’re sister.” Ugh.

(After pointing out my twin sister) “Wow she’s gorgeous, looks like a model! Of course you’re pretty too, in a unique way.”

(At the office) “As far as women go, you know your stuff pretty well. I hope you asked for a salary that outranks the other women lateral to your position.” Not the other men, mind you, just the other women lateral to me. I may or may not have kicked this guy in the nuts.

“Girls who have been raped are normally fucking crazy; you actually seem really normal and pretty stable.”