“YoU’Re nOt gOiNg tO gEt a jOb WiTh tHoSe tAtToOs”

First of all, bold of you to assume I’m employable without my tattoos

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M: If someone calls you the wrong name is it rude to correct them?

Interviewer: I meant questions about the job, Kim.

M: Well, I’m Ursula.


The truck in front of me is hauling a fridge. Freezer just flew open and a chicken nugget hit my windshield.

Day. Made.


When I see a self-help book at a secondhand store, I wonder…does that mean it worked, or it is bullshit?


Sorry I can’t pay my rent this month, I bought an apple at the airport.


Well, I don’t know how my tattoo is gonna look when I’m 60, Carol, but I know you’ll be dead by then so


“Please. I need this” I whisper as a 14 year old girl starts to get the better of me in an arm wrestling match.


Phone just autocorrected “your” to “yore” in case thou wouldst think I’m smarter than thee.


When a big account that doesn’t follow me stars me suddenly, I crouch down and stay still, hoping it will tiptoe up and eat from my hand.


I would watch a reality show that’s nothing but goth kids trying not to smile while riding on a jet ski.


Way back when, I thought technology would look more like flying cars and less like me yelling “The laptop’s not a touch screen,” at my kids.