Cracker is such a strange insult. I mean, being called a slave owner isn't great, but tacitly comparing yourself to a slave doesn't seem worth it.

I'm working on my vision board right now.

I sometimes feel like your 20s are like a second adolescence, but this time the stakes are real. I'm also amazed at how fast my friends and I are physically aging. No one warned me about that. Stupid hairline.

Thanks for writing this. It's always somehow both terrifying and comforting knowing no one knows what they're doing.

Moreover, why don't they just see which girl at the ball fits into those heels?

First journalism, now the justice system. I can't wait for surgeons to outsource their work to Twitter.

You'll Never Guess What Is Now One of Those Words That Mean "I Don't Like This, but Expression Is Hard"

How about theaters show The Interview, but run it like a speakeasy?

I once tried carrying waffles in my pockets, but the syrup bound my trousers to my legs.

You're too kind. Do you have any waffles? They help when my humours are all a tither.

I got overtaken by fatigue halfway through this article.

People have asked me before, and my answer usually consists of a thousand-yard stare.

Mean that to you anything?

Do you ever google yourself? Also, do you ever look up your name on search engines?

What did you do today? (I still like this one from Hodgman.)

Where have all the cowboys gone?

Conversely: When did you realize life was meaningless?

The main thing I got out of repeatedly coming to this article is that maybe I should start watching Masters of Sex.

No, no, this will be the world's first cyber war. It will be catastrophically sexy.

Hey man, chin up. We'll get there.