I made a post on Instagram recently that gained a bit of curious attention. I posted about going for a run and enjoying it. Now, most people who know me are aware of my true apathy toward sports. I understand that the idea of me going for a run seems surprising, but I would like to dispel the notion that I am completely unable to be athletic. I have actually made three athletic achievements in my lifetime. And two were for running, you bitches. Read on.
Today while I was walking down the street, I passed a dude who jabbed his finger at me while yelling “fuck YOU,” and adding a hearty “FUCK YOU, TOO” to the rest of the people on the street.
I’m still not sure what caused his outburst – was he ill? Was he on my period?
“Have a good one!” I shouted over my shoulder.
At first I wasn’t sure what had upset him so. But later, I came to a conclusion: I think he had eaten a dark, dry and tasteless pumpkin pie. He was probably forced to buy one from the grocery store, over-spiced and overpriced. What “fuck you” really meant was, “fuck you for not sharing with all of us the pie recipe you have enjoyed for years. Fuck you for making us live this way.”
Street Meanie, this one’s for you.
CHRISTMAS IS OVER AND I DON’T EVEN CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ANYMOREEE
Just these cookies. I can already hear the guy in the background, flailing one arm in the air and yelling “HAAYYY. WE’VE ALRIDDY HAD CHOC-LIT CHUP CUCKIES.” But these are chocolate chunk cookies. With salt. And some extra TLC. I promise if you get on this salty cookie train with me, you’ll get off in chocolate town with a hop in your step and a crumb in your pocket.