Honestly I’m just tired of the whole “examination of the self” that is like 60% of modern culture. It wasn’t great when everyone was encouraged to push their feelings down into a tiny nuclear ball, just waiting for it to explode, but this constant, self-involved examination of every. little. thing. that has ever…

Those shows were fun because the characters did fun, exciting stuff. No one wants to watch a character naval gaze and then hash it over again and again and again with their friends. That’s why we don’t buy tickets to watch other people’s therapy sessions. 

This is an excellent rule of thumb in general. Beyond the basics of biological existence—if Hitler did it, don’t.

So...don’t be like Hitler....got it.

Yeah but I bet you wouldn’t be comforted if you had some big plan and you don’t have enough time to finish it. Hitler felt that way. He always told friends he needed to complete his life’s work quickly because people in his family didn’t live long. He really was extraordinarily hasty in the 1930s. Germany was nowhere…

It’s been said before, by myself and people smarter than me, that Trump is a poor man’s idea of wealth, a classless person’s idea of class, and a loser’s idea of success. He appeals to the poor and classless because if they were rich they’d buy the same kind of crap that he does. He appeals to losers because they…

I wonder if this is how it feels to have a shitty ex because part of me wants to see the twitter shitshow and part of me is appreciating the mental health benefits of not having to think about him anymore.

I’ve always maintained that I can’t get too upset about, or involved with, the lives of the artists whose work I love. I love the work, and while there might be something to the idea that the work speaks something true about who they are, these are not people that I know. I’m really resistant to the idea of fandom…

As a child of the late 70s/early 80s, the first celebrity death that really hit me was Jim Henson. Many an episode of Sesame Street, The Muppet Show, and Muppet Babies baby sat me during my formative years. On a side note, I was so traumatized by The Dark Crystal as a kid (skeksis were not my thing), that I didn’t watc…

Okay, so here’s my take.

This response seems... wildly insensitive?

Yeah, true enough. I think Brandy generates a lot of comments to her articles with advice that seems a tad...I dunno...glib?

As the anxiety/depressed partner, it’s rough on the not depressed/anxious partner, particularly if the depressed/anxious party is new to depression/anxiety and doesn’t know what their breaking point is or how to communicate that.

Absolutely we don’t, but that didn’t stop AAFU from lecturing the LW and pretty much telling her she’s shallow and just doesn’t think her boyfriend is funsies anymore.

I’m not going to lie, I found this line kind of disturbing:

My first year teaching, in a 4th grade class. The room was completely empty of any materials, so I bought crayons, markers, and other supplies to do all the cool activities I had planned. We had parent night the first week, right off the bat. While I was telling the parents about all my great ideas, the parents stole e…

My first real job was at a convenience store where the usual retail malarky happened. So I’ll talk about the FIRST DAY of my second job.

My first ever job is a job that I actually put out of my memory, purely because it was so fucking traumatic and it’s something I only think about if I allow my mind to go back to summertime 1996 and the disastrous two weeks I spent working for a bank call centre.

First job was delivering newspapers (remember those?) in my little town in South Jersey. I started with 20-25 customers, grew the route to 35-40 and eventually took over the route next to mine as well for a total of 80 daily customers and 100+ Sundays.

I don’t have a great horror story but my first real job when I was 18 was grave digger at the local cemetery where we buried homeless people in card board refrigerator boxes. That was horrible in and of itself.