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station. It was like I was competing for an award for being the most conspicuously uncool person ever. I waved weakly at the woman and said, “That wasn’t me,” but she wasn’t buying it. I should have slapped the card to the ground and yelled, “Witchcraft!” but you always think about these things too late.
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    My blood test came back as low in magnesium and selenium, but instead of prescribing a vitamin my doctor prescribed “two brazil nuts a day.” I always thought that in the future food was supposed to be in pill form. Now I’m taking pills in food form. We’re going backward here. Also, it sort of sucks that the one nut I’m prescribed is the worst nut. The one everyone throws away. I need to start a fund-raiser where everyone in the world just sends me the two nuts always left at the bottom of the can.
    I told Victor that I’d gotten my test results and “they’ve prescribed me nuts.” Victor says I’m confusing “prescribed” with “diagnosed.”
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    Benedict Cumberbatch is like Alan Rickman Benjamin Buttoning.
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    I don’t understand why people keep pushing that “Don’t be some random person. BE UNIQUE” message. You’re already incredibly unique. Everyone is incredibly unique. That’s why the police use fingerprints to identify people. So you’re incredibly unique … but in the exact same way that everyone else is. (Which, admittedly, doesn’t really sing and is never going to make it on a motivational T-shirt.) So none of us are unique in being unique because being unique is pretty much the least unique thing you can be, because it comes naturally to everyone. So perhaps instead of “BE UNIQUE” we should be saying, “Be as visibly fucked up as you want to be because being unique is already taken.” By everyone , ironically enough.
    Or maybe we should change the message to “Don’t just be some random person. Be the MOST random person.”
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    The amount of money I would pay for people to stop fucking up grammar is only slightly lower than the amount I’d give to ensure I never have grammatical errors in the statements I make calling others out on their grammatical errors.
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    If you put a bunch of chameleons on top of a bunch of chameleons on top of a bowl of Skittles what would happen? Is that science? Because if so, I finally get why people want to do science.
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    I should start the Museum of Missing Stuff. It’d be filled with empty glass cases of stuff that’s not there. Also, a giant room of stray socks and keys. And my sense of rationalism. And Victor’s sense of whimsy. And his patience. That place would be crammed. We might have to expand.
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    People who think it’s so hard to find a needle in a haystack are probably not quilters. Needles find you. Just walk on the haystack for a second. You’ll find the needle. They’re worse than floor-Legos. And if that doesn’t work just burn some fucking hay. They should change “like finding a needle in a haystack” to “like finding a pen that works in that drawer filled with pens that don’t work.”
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    People wonder how Victor and I have stayed married for so long even though he’s Republican and I’m super liberal. I think it all comes down to communication and compromise. Like last week when Victor said, “If you renew your PETA membership I will run over a squirrel.” He’s bluffing though. Unless he was in someone else’s car.
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    I’m allergic to latex and it makes me break out in a rash so most condoms are out for me because the last thing any of us wants is a vagina rash. The alternative is the ones made