No Thanks.

No I will not. I will just trust you. And probably send you a hand-written thank you card now that I don't have to die a little inside every three hours.

Brandon and I were discussing this and I said it was because most people already have smart phones, and they check them 40 times an hour, so being notified multiple times for the same LAZER TAG PARTY FOR SHANIELA'S 23RD!!!!!! is redundant. AND REDUNDANT DOES NOT FLY IN THE ZUCKERBERG HOUSE, Y'ALL.

You are more than welcome for the pitchy Beyonce cover. And I picked this version because Adrien Brody's in it. Just.. because he's perfect in every way.

In honor of my first solo gig tomorrow...

I'll remind you why I started playing music: to throw myself desperately at men.

Just kidding. I don't do that anymore.

Children are dying... probably.

Also what's with the black girl? She makes one comment about science around 2:00, and then gets one "please" at the end... maybe she was busy. Or not funny. Maybe both.

From "The Wayward Bus"

So I made a promise to myself to read every Steinbeck book before the summer was out. All my fall-loving friends on facebook, my desire for pumpkins, and my sunroof are telling me time is running out. But I found this little morsel the other night and really wanted to share:

"Look, kid," she said. "You'll just have to believe this until you find it out for yourself-- everybody's a tramp some time or another. Everybody. And the worst tramps of all are the ones that call it something else."

Sometimes I think the way Steinbeck writes women can be very indicative of the era in which he penned his books. They're treated as little girls, or coveted frail objects, or as something to work to attain and worship but never to fully respect.

But then there are times he surprises me and reminds me of how much deep-bellied truth there is in each of his books.