No response, I am satiated.

I’ll speak for the rest of the United States here: “Fuck off Brooklyn, you’re not wanted here.”

You’re not wasting your time, I assure you. I just don’t get where this pathological need to always be protecting comes from and if you could elucidate I’d be on my way.

Alternately, penalizing a sibling for shitty behavior by keeping them as far from the wedding as possible should be recognized as a punishment and if it isn’t fuck ‘em.

Blew your wad on that ineffectual paranoid diatribe from earlier? I understand.

Except driving probably results in more fatalities to children than leaving them unattended in a motor vehicle. Get out.

Yeah, because a lot of us aren’t falling over ourselves in an irrational fit to protect our children based on a random act of violence.

Do you not return carts to the cart corral because your kid is strapped in their car seat and you don’t want to turn your back for even a moment?

When I lived near SFO and it was pre 9/11, my mom and I would go get burgers and then watch the planes take off and rumble the whole car. It was a fun way to pass the time.

“When you roll through America’s rambling backyards and industrial parks reclaimed by ragweed and porcupine grass at 45 miles an hour on a train, your thoughts open up and sprawl out. The same can be said of driving an interstate, lonely and in love with it. Suddenly the flyover feels like the real phobic state of…

Raises NOW!

keywords are hashtags now. Honestly, think about it.

This shit looks like curtains.

A hashtag isn’t a contextual joke, stop pretending like it is you humorless babies.

It’s not a cab which has its own cultural cache and it has an app and sometimes it’s more convenient than waiting for a cab on some West Coast cities where medallions are handed out by a stingy comptroller.

But only after the art department, for their work with dinosaur fellatio.

The old one was pretty bad upon retrospect, like almost everything from the 80s and 90s.

I wonder how much of this is just southerners navel gazing.

So the South is Brooks Brothers or J Crew with a twang and self referential “Shit that sounds like something your Southern cousin might have plum declared”

Statement: I have more money than taste