We Are the Worst

 

Just a quick one today. 

 

Super quick.  Practically a one-liner, really.

 

I’m not busy or anything, I’m just pretty sure I’m going to piss a lot of people off with this one and I want to get it over with and move on to the torch-and-pitchfork stage.

(The Simpsons) angry torch-and-pitchfork mob

 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!

Terminal Urology

 

You know that narcissist test where they ask if you have backup dancers?

 

Rick and Morty Vegas-style backup dancers

 

No?  Never heard of it?

 

Okay, so it’s this thing, not quite a quiz, and one of the statements is “I often visualize myself with backup dancers/singers.”  For the record, I’m pretty sure that was the only one I agreed with, but I can’t remember for sure if there were others because my friends were so freaked out by the backup dancer thing (and the assertion that I need a theme song, too) that that became the topic for the rest of forever.

 

I was going somewhere with that thought… hang on…

 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!

Popping the Question

 

There are questions never asked here, and I want you all to know that I do appreciate your restraint, your apparent faith in me.   There is, however, one question that I get asked in real life that I feel is best addressed here (no, it has nothing to do with managing my staggering sex appeal – seems everyone just assumes I’m completely oblivious to my effect on others); strangely, the question is about this blog, even though, as I’ve alluded a mere eight commas ago (shut up, I do not run-on, it’s called a complex sentence, and the count is now eleven) it’s never asked by anyone who actually follows this blog.

Don’t stop now – keep reading!