Currently.

This is 12 minutes longer than you want it to be and most of it is about milk.

x

I laughed aggressively loud at this picture. I cackled.

(via champagneghost)

I have an irrational and inconvenient fear of bugs that might actually get worse as I get older. Our apartment has been pretty okay, with an occasional small spider or fruit fly, which was a nice little thought I had as I went up the stairs tonight after returning from a show.

I was trying to order a pizza for myself online when I kicked over a shoe and a centipede came crawling out and went under my bed. My roommate and I took five minutes to capture it and then threw it off our balcony. I finished ordering my pizza and was laughing at stupid tweets when another one ran out from under my bed. I screamed so loud and kicked everything I knew how to kick. Where am I going to sleep tonight? Great question.

I’ve been joking (and also not joking) that my dream date is going to the grocery store and having another person to talk to and shop with while I buy food to sustain myself. I will up this slightly in future reference to say that if you want to pick me up at a bar and bring me back to your place of living to sleep with me, all you have to tell me is that there are no centipedes if your apartment. I don’t care who the fuck you are or what you have done. If you have not seen a centipede in your living space, I probably want to be there.

GOOD NIGHT WORLD

queerpotters:

Kristen Stewart in ‘Just One Of The Guys’ by Jenny Lewis (x)

At roughly 2:35, Kristen Stewart waggles her eyebrows in suggestive delight at the viewer, then beckons to herself as if to say “Me? You? You? Me? Is this happening? Let’s make this happen.” Kristen Stewart contains more drollery in the crook of her little finger than you have in your entire miserable carcass.

I’ve seen four out of five of the Twilight movies and haven’t thought twice about Kristen Stewart until I saw this video and now she’s ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT???

(via sierramarinara)

Life is goofy so I bleached my ends.

Life is goofy so I bleached my ends.

Breakfast with my mom

"Besides Childish Gambino, who I know is Donald Glover, who is playing at Lollapalooza this year?"

"Oh god, I don’t know. Eminem. Red Hot Chili Peppers, maybe."

"Oh right."

"Lorde."

"Oh, good for her."

"Iggy Azalea."

"I don’t know her."

"You haven’t heard Fancy?"

"No, I don’t think so. I know her, though. I know she’s tall and blonde and raps but isn’t Kesha."

"Yeah, she’s fine."

"Who else?"

"Um, oh, Skrillex."

"Oh!"

"He’s a headliner, I think."

"Wow, good for him."

"I mean, he’s always doing—"

"That is so good. Skrillex is doing well. That’s wonderful."

"Okay."

“Skrillex as a headliner. That’s great.”

Notes

I spent a lot of time being unkind about that Potato Salad kickstarter. I’m probably still pretty unkind about it. I found out on Tuesday of this past week that I know one of the guys behind it in real life (IRL). He’s a really good dude and a really funny dude and I laughed so hard because I had been so spiteful about it. “You’ve still been a lot nicer than the AV Club,” he told me. I laughed harder. Maybe I like the Potato Salad kickstarter and hate everyone who is careless with their money. You should only ever donate your money to breast cancer research or a television show that’s been cancelled that you want to come back.

Last week at work, a woman told me I was “wearing the hell” out of my apron. Similarly, I ran into a peer from high school who asked me if “this was it” to my life. Yeah, it kinda is, but at least I don’t have to sell insurance, so joke’s on you, idiot. I wonder if there is secretly someone paying a lot of people to have opinions on my plans and lifestyle. Who is it? Can they kickstarter me that money? I don’t know.

Have you watched Season 2 of Orange is the New Black? I’m almost done with it. It’s very entertaining. I liked ragging on Season 1 a little for being inconsistent with strange pacing issues, but a lot of that is fixed here and the dialogue is just so good. 

I got to do an 18 minute set this past Friday for some friends’ show and it was wildly rewarding. I hadn’t done longer than about eight minutes since April and I was so very nervous that I would tell all of my jokes in, like, seven minutes and then just stand on stage and ask people how they were doing for the remaining time. But it went well! And I think it was well-received. There will probably be video uploaded here or somewhere you can watch it because you guys are always like “Fran I wanna see you do jokes” and I’m like “no, it’s actually so dumb” and now you’ll be able to know for sure.

I ran into a guy I went to college with at a party this weekend. “We went to college together,” I told him, “we met a few times.” He didn’t remember me. “Did you look like this?” he asked me, which was a confusing question. “No,” I said, “I was kinda uglier back then.” He didn’t say anything back. Making a lot of friends at camp, Mom!

It’s been over a month since I’ve had any alcohol and over six months since I’ve had a cigarette. I still ask to smell my friends’ drinks (mainly nice beers! I miss beers, you guys) and I stand in the room when other people smoke because secondhand smoke is going to kill me. Anyway, I’m a little healthier than I was back in January when I kept thinking that everyone is a demon. Now maybe just I’m the demon.

Today is my first day with no work since the month of June. Isn’t that stupid? I’m going to dogsit for my parents and clutch the puppy to my chest all day. I’m going to read, maybe, but also probably try to beat 2048 (I know). It’s gonna be really nice.

This is how my cherry pie turned out. I allowed myself one piece and then gave the rest to a friend which is probably a little tacky but she likes pie and it’s not like I licked the pie or anything. My pie was ugly but fucking delicious, the right amount of sweet and tart. At least two other people agree.

Here’s the thing. I don’t expect you to be anything else. I don’t want you to be anything else. You are perfect exactly as you are. No matter what happens, even if it ain’t easy or simple or ideal, we’re going to be great.

Roxane Gay is Spelled With One “N”: The Softest Parts of Ourselves 

Read this whole thing read this whole thing read this whole thing read this whole thing read this—

This Friday I’m doing 20 minutes at Donny’s Skybox at Second City and you should come join me. The guys producing it are dear friends who have helped me work on my act so much in the past year or so. They have also consistently spelled my last name correctly which is more than I can say for most.

I’m going to talk about drinking and drugs and love and loneliness and also maybe dying, because I’m covering everything else so why not this. You should be there. I want to see you.

Cameron and I walked past Michael Shannon on the street tonight. We did not talk to him. He was wearing gym clothes. His hair was insane. But we talked about it for half an hour after the fact and Michael Shannon is truly amazing, good night, fair friends.

Broad city(scape)