Totally true. In a relationship, you have to hide the mechanics of how things get done, specifically how bills get paid. If you don’t do that, you’re headed for trouble.

Sweet. As a newly single high earner about to move to the Midwest, I look forward to my dating options. On the bright side, Midwesterners are really polite, and people might try to talk to me at parties.

People like to use public shaming as a weapon because it is effective, but they need to think twice, especially with kids and teens. 13-year-olds ARE their public personas. They believe they truly are what is visible to others, and that’s why they are so invested in their appearances. They don’t have a strong inner…

And if Kathleen Turner shows up to headbang along with Camel Lips, the world will approach perfection.

Wouldn’t it be funny if Diva Cup tried to get in on that action somehow?

Groupies get a pass. A backstage pass, to be precise.

And thank you. Given who gets to publish memoirs, it seems to be more about who you are than what you’ve done. And the more the who outweighs the what, the less interesting the memoir.

Somewhere, an English comp professor is feeling insulted.

I’m guessing that same colleague often says he/she doesn’t have time to pee, either, right?

Oh, yeah. When asked for round-the-clock work, an employee’s first thought should be, “Am I likely to get overtime or a bonus for this?”

Yup. I worked at a startup where weekend work was required. To their immense credit, they gave me a phone and paid the bill. That’s real workaholic dedication, as opposed to the fake kind.

Avocadont, you’re the smart one. Don’t ever sync up your phone with your work email. It will drive you crazy. Separate sandboxes are the key to sanity.

My favorite is when two coworkers get into a showdown over how hard they have been working and you see them try to trump each other. “I’ve been here until blah PM.” “Well, I was here until blah PM.” The boss notices neither, of course.

Half hours on earth, what are they worth? ... Funny thing. For me, I just use ‘em to listen to the Silver Jews songs on my phone.

Wait, there’s actually a GWAR-B-Q? What is on that menu, pray tell?

True, and generous, but if I lived in Lexington, I’d want Paul the Younger off the roads and in rehab pronto.

I remember the Yo La Tengo* “disaster,” only because one of my sweet but clueless cousins called to make sure I was okay. An awkward conversation in which I assured her I was fine and introduced her to the wonderful world of The Onion ensued. Come to think of it, she still doesn’t like The Onion.

Oh, indeed. The last time I went to a show (Television) on a school night, I found myself chugging Dr. Pepper instead of beer so I could make it through the encore. One beer, and I would have made like a memaw and started napping on the bar.

This might be the first time I’m tempted to fudge my age up rather than down.