You can see it at www.twitter.com/whyioughtta.
Perhaps this will be updated regularly since it takes very little time to update and even less thought.
Someone, help me.
Dear lady-fashion trend of wearing a dress with a big honking belt tied around the middle,
I’ve never liked you.
You remind me of the 1980s, but not in a fun “Remember how great ALF was!?” kind of way. In an side-ponytail, fluorescent pink, crunchy bangs kind of way.
I take umbrage to your influencing young ladies to wear long tunics and tights. Basically, what this mean is that girls are going around without wearing pants — and it’s all your fault.
I like the fact that you’re trying to accentuate feminine hips, but this is not the way.
When I see you, I do not say “Wow, look at those bodacious curves.” What I say is, “Wow, that is a huge fucking belt!”
I think Lindsay Lohan is to blame for this.
However, I do think that this trend is on its way out, yes? But whatever. Los Angeles will soon give us something else that is awful.
C’est la vie.
DAN
Andrew and I came up with a business plan after a pitcher of margaritas. It will be a SUCCESS!
Our company will be called Muppies, Inc. The premise is that for every stressful meeting you have to go to, you just rent a puppy. Who can get stressed out when there’s a floppy-eared puppy hanging out, making things awesome?
Should Muppies, Inc. take off, we could expand our empire. For instance, Duppies, Inc. would provide puppies for first dates. I think it would make people more touch-y on their dates. We considered Buppies, Inc. for bars, but I think that would end up being a disaster for the puppies.
Dear cheeseless pizza,
I resent your very existence.
Go back to Russia.
Love,
DAN
First up, I don’t know what’s going on with that plugin on the right. It worked the first time I tried it and now it is giving me a weird error message. I’ll take it down soon enough.
Secondly, per Stickles’ request, next week I’m going to begin a five-part daily series of Room Clearers. Each themed.
It’ll be five discs of ten songs each — all of them absolutely unlistenable. Or listenable while acknowledging your self-hatred. So get ready. First thing Monday, it’ll be ready to launch.
This is a public service announcement.
Nobody likes the guy dressed in the adult baby costume. It’s seriously disgusting.
This has been a public service announcement.
On the subject of “I’m trying to figure out if this thing is actually a thing,” I’ve recently been introduced to the concept of the “sweat sandwich.” Has anyone heard of this?
The way it was explained to me, it involves the simultaneous donning of sweatpants and a sweatshirt (preferably not matching, preferably pertaining to a parental university sports team). Further, it’s been explained to me (passive voice enabled to protect the guilty) that wearing the sweat sandwich usually occurs after a bender of some sort, and it’s supposed to be conducive to recovery.
My initial question was this: If there’s sweat on the top and sweat on the bottom, what’s in the middle? From what I gather, the only acceptable response is “sadness.”
The way I see it, you can either wear the sweat sandwich in two ways. You can wear it shamefully, as if to say “This is all I have left.” Or, you could wear it defiantly, as if to say “I have nothing to prove to you.”
Either way, life re-evaluation usually follow a day wearing a sweat sandwich.