Too Late, Trotsky

Always Prepared

I just got done watching John Oliver’s New York Stand-Up Show, and Janeane Garofalo’s bit about flip-flops.

About two months ago, I saw 28 Days Later and decided I had to re-think my choice of footwear. I stopped wearing flip-flops every day as per my usual pedal wardrobe. Instead, I started choosing shoes based on the ability to run from velociraptors and/or the undead.

Now, I have one pair of flip-flops, a pair of boat shoes, checkered slip-ons, running shoes, and two pairs of converse. I don’t have “professional shoes” or high heels simply because living is more important to me than appearance.

“ He’s so pathetic. Let me tell you something about Jay Gatsby. We were best friends in Louisville. I know, right? It’s so embarrassing. I don’t even… Whatever. So then in Febuary, I became engaged to my first fiancee, Tom who was totally gorgeous but then he moved to Chicago, and Gatsby was like, weirdly jealous of him. Like, if I would blow him off to hang out with Tom, He’d be like, “Why didn’t you send a letter to me in the war?” And I’d be like, “Why are you so obsessed with me?” So then, for my wedding, which was an all-east egg party, I was like, “Gatsby, I can’t invite you, because I think you’re part of the lost generation and have new european ideals in contrast to old american ones”I mean I couldn’t have any new-money people at my party. There were gonna be people there from the american aristocracy. I mean, right? He was from WEST EGG. So then he called my cousin nick and started lying to him, it was so retarded. And then He told everyone he went to Oxford because no one would talk to him, and he came back in the fall, and he threw loads of parties and he was totally weird, and now I guess he’s on crack

—

me and my friend, to cheer up my Mean-girls fanboy friend who was having trouble with an essay. translated our set-text (The Great Gatsby) into Regina Georges speech about Janis Ian. He loved it. (via beeizzle)

LOL

(via stayfrostygents)

This is just…awesome.

The Good, the Bad, and the Nights I Forgot About

I like
every night that
I say the next day
was a “bad night.”

Because the “bad nights”
are always the best nights.
I always feel like I’m lying
through my teeth

the next morning
when I say I fucked up.
We both know I didn’t.