A wonderful song, that you can (and should at least once) sing to the tune of Gilligan’s Island.

My funeral is not for me but for those that are still alive after I kick it. Therefore I do not have a single fuck to give about what is happening after I die.

I was a great Middle Schooler and even I was super shitty.  

I’ve been married for 13+ years. I STILL don’t like giving my wife my password...

YES! India’s answer to Brian Dennehy!

His dogwhistle here is that he “allowed” it to happen. He gave them the funeral they wanted because he didn’t stand in the way and make a big stink about things. He is a bank robber asking for praise because he only pistol whipped the teller instead of shooting them in the head.

I for one WOULD like to be a baller.  Maybe even a shot caller.  I will buy an Impala and get 20" blades for it.  

I eat at a place a bit smaller than this in Seattle from time to time.  Is called la Vaca and is just south of Pike Place Market on 1st avenue. AMAZING tortas!

might be more of a slider...but yeah!

How hard is this:

Ugh. I’m in such a funk right now that when I tried this my brain immediately responded with “You don’t deserve this praise. Even from yourself.”

If Ben and Jerry’s is his “Vice” then he isn’t vegan... just Sayin’

I’m always told to “Shop local!”.  What if I lived in Seattle?  Amazon, Microsoft, Starbucks...  all of these would be local for me!

And pay listed shipping prices for all of my Amazon orders!?  NFW! /s

As a white male reparations would do nothing for me but make paying my taxes harder. That being said I can’t come up with an arguement against them that passes my own internal morality test.

Here’s my list:

I know it is cliché but this is the reason I eat all the delicious meat.

If you have trouble with his clothing but didn’t care about Lady Gaga’s meat dress or J-Lo’s gown that was cut to the navel then I don’t respect your opinion.

two-thirds of whites believed Obama made racism worse

My Wife’s ex did this for the first several months we were dating (including a surprise proposal on her doorstep). It was hell— for both of us.