Having Fun Isn’t Hard
Those are the things that the metadata leaves out.
Those are the things that the metadata leaves out.
“Could you enhance this image” on your 1990s camcorder? Sure.
It was a joke when I turned to my sister and asked, “I dunno, do you wanna share a spinsters’ grave with me?”
Ten years ago, the post calvin was just an idea.
Yesterday I stumbled across a picture of a red pine and realized I had never actually seen one before.
She mouths the numbers to herself when she calculates the tip.
I think they might have arrested him in the end, but if they did I don’t know why.
Introducing slushies to the two Chinese exchange students who were on set was either the best or worst thing I’ve ever done for Sino-American diplomatic relations.
She shakes her head once, before looking up back at me with holy certainty. “You have no idea who you are,” she declares.
It is not uncommon for readers at this stage to lash out at others; example behaviors include a savage Twitter mention and/or telling the librarian who recommended the book that he should “seek a new career path.”
Most of the time, we’re just readers with admin permissions.
Fun new surprises to this volume include the worst pet name for any child, several cameos from the Michelle Love extended universe, and multiple scenes that make one go, “I can’t imagine that’s how sex clubs actually function.”
And I just don’t have it in me to explain to a cop why I’m burying Reynolds Wrap under the hostas.
When every thought you had about anything has already been espoused by someone more eloquent and witty than you, universal boredom seems like the inevitable end of human experience.
It’s the last time they ever come to the library.
As a woman, I was late to the scene, and as a hopelessly asexual person, the scene did nothing for me.
I remember thinking, with all the considerable certainty that a fifteen-year-old can muster, that if this doesn’t change us, nothing will.
More likely, though, her inevitable termination was brought on by her unending affection for sugary beverages, which she does not regret.
I am more worried about the effects that these conversations have on adults.
“Please don’t call the police,” she says.
Kay throws out dramatic, world-altering twists as easily as your ex-roommate spoils the new Spiderman on Twitter.
Amidst the bad, the broken, and the baffling, our writers sought and succeeded to chronicle all that and more.
Our paranormal pair spend most of the story thinking about how their relationship failed because David was bad at sex, not chasing down whoever is putting up mistletoe all over town and giving a couple folks some minor frostbite.
“You’re Koster’s sister, right? Why aren’t you a ginger?”
The whole thing was a real exercise in accelerated bildungsroman.
All we had to do to win was get both of our pawns to the launch pad.
You are suddenly and acutely aware that when you die and go to hell, this is what awaits you.
I’d start by telling them about the lies I used to tell in middle school.
It might seem strange to describe a global event that cost some eighty-five million people their lives with the same adjective that Kohl’s uses to describe underwear.
For a creature that technically does not have a brain, Clive has a great sense of dramatic timing.