Blog

I pee so much that I think if I could actually get pregnant I might have to spend nine months over a bucket. Overshare? Probably.

I think it really says something about our relationship, and perhaps our maturity level, that my husband and I:

• keep our important documents in a cardboard box marked "Super Important Documents"
• the same box also contains our porno collection.

There was a reporter outside my door talking loudly to someone else about St. Louis. So I sang CLANG CLANG CLANG WENT THE TROLLEY until she went away.

*adds check mark to list*

"What's your name? Corduroy?"

"Cordenay."

"Your parents call you that?"

"They call me Cord."

"So why not name you Cord? An arrangement of notes; a bundle of wires; firewood... these are things I understand."

"Can I go now?"

"No, let's talk about your little sister's name; the future stripper."

YOU ARE DEFINITELY SMOKING THE POT UP THERE, AREN'T YOU? You can't send me file video that is 95% broll of Bill Cosby and claim it's Hugh Hefner file.

In highschool I worked at a baseball stadium and one of my bosses was this complete and utter humorless asshole. Frequently, before or way after a game, one of the crew would put an album on the P.A. system. (My favorite was the day someone put on Journey's greatest hits.) One night during break down, someone put on Under the Table and Dreaming, and goddamned if the humorless asshole didn't lose his fucking shit, dancing around the concourse, singing every single word to every single song. I will never again listen to Ants Marching the same way.

I saw this movie for the first time on F/X last night, and all I could think was "My God, Mark Ruffalo really wants that BLT."