life’s like a road that you travel on it’s one day here the next day gone sometimes you bend sometimes you stand sometimes you turn your back to the wind there’
I like my coffee like I like my men— simple, no frills, medium strength, skinny, ice cold, a little pretentious, bitter, looks good in photos, either at church or at a punk show, wearing vans, on a skateboard
A 6-year-old boy walks up to the magazine rack at the dentist’s office and grabs a copy of Martha Stewart’s Living. His mom looks up at me and says “every time.”
Five people have texted me to check in since Joan Didion passed—last time this happened was when Cole Sprouse got a new gf so this must mean I’ve successfully rebranded.
I keep trying to swear off crushes but my entire sense of humor is really just a ploy to impress skinny indie boys with letterboxd accounts and who would I be if not an entertainer?
My dad’s smoked Gouda supplier is retiring to sail a boat around the world—what an unexpected catalyst to this year’s home-for-Christmas existential dread