The Yard Work Will Have to Wait Until I Recover from This Nasty Case of Havana Syndrome
I think I can muster up just enough strength to go put the gardening tools away but that’s about it. Just give me a second while I try to stand up.
I think I can muster up just enough strength to go put the gardening tools away but that’s about it. Just give me a second while I try to stand up.
February 1: Someone told me the ice cream bowl was basically just a cone. Total hater.
The word was poised to leap out of my mouth. I could feel the word coming loose from whatever papillae it had stepped in.
Larry took long walks where he bore a smug, knowing smile as he passed this editor’s house and looked upon the decrepit, unkempt lawn.
I didn’t bring my resume with me but here you go: hahahahahhaa. See, I’m good.
“Yankee Stadium?” I said, pointing towards the castle below. “Camelot,” he replied. “What the fuck,” I said.
Before Lex Luthor’s hedge fund bought us out and we started reporting only by telephone, I loved running to crime scenes.
Oh McNo. I’m not McFeeling so McWell. My McVision is all McBlurred and I have a McPain in my McAbdomen.
Fight back by repeating daily affirmations—"I am good enough"—or by taking off a shoe and whipping it at the gremlin’s head.
No more acting like you don’t want guacamole or pretending that if you get guacamole, it’ll make you too full.
Strong candidates will fit in with our diverse and dedicated group of cryptic caretakers, silent maids, hostile valets, and cursed children.
We’ll enforce basic duel-to-death etiquette, which basically seems to mean making sure one party dies (Hamilton is available on Disney+, by the way).