What I Know for Sure

Things I know about men: Be nice to their penis. Figure out what they like during sex and do it. They also like food. 

Things I do not know about men: Whether the guy asking me about the office coffee is just chatty, or hitting on me. 

(If he’s hitting on me, score, because I look like a bag of hell today. I get cuter, sir. Come back tomorrow.)

Don Draper would never mislead me this way! Oh. Wait…

As readily as I will buy whatever Christina Hendricks tells me to (Johnnie Walker for life!), if this transformation was achieved with a DIY home hair color, I am a Christian supermodel.

Aural fixation 

Bwah ha ha… Added to my reading list!   

God help me if it’s a bad narrator. Is there any way we could get Stephen Colbert to read this one to me? Maybe Chris Noth? Scott Foley? My vagina is oddly particular about voices — this isn’t gonna work for me if the narrator says “supposably.”

(If it has to be a woman, maybe Kerry Washington? My orgasm would get HANDLED.)

Mental breakthroughs via Anna Kendrick.

Holy shit, you guys. I heard that “Cups” song on my way into work, and I could finally leave it on and sing along, instead of changing the station and feeling sad because I associate it with a boy who, alas, did NOT miss me when I was gone.

PROGRESS. BITCHES.

Thanks, Brain!

And thank YOU, Anna Kendrick. Nothing personal, you are glorious. I want to be deadpan bestie bunnies with you.