I hate it when someone I had one conversation with in high school has a private Instagram account when it’s 12 am and I’m trying to satisfy unknowable curiosities....
* Michaela Okland (@MichaelaOkla): I hate it when someone I had one conversation with in high school has a private Instagram account when it’s 12 am and I’m trying to satisfy unknowable curiosities.
* Robby Slowik (@RobbySlowik): At least Wonka explained how he got into chocolate. I sat through all of Napoleon and they never even mentioned him putting vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream together.
* Josh Gondelman (@joshgondelman): Reminder to anyone speaking ill of the dead this week: Sure it’s fun, but you missed the chance to hurt someone’s feelings. Life is precious. Talk s*** about your enemies while they’re still here. (And also after if you want.)
* Ginny Hogan (@ginnyhogan_): This app is completely dead. I posted a tweet with a typo, and zero men corrected me.
“I hate dreaming. Because when you sleep, you [just] wanna sleep. Dreaming is work, you know – there I am in a comfortable bed, the next thing you know I have to build a go-kart with my ex-landlord. I want a dream of me watching myself sleep.” – Mitch Hedberg
A customs officer at the Mexican border noticed a man coming across one day on a bicycle with two small sacks tied to the handlebars. He naturally got suspicious and asked him to open the sacks, but when he did, he found nothing but sand.
This went on every day for the next month. Each time he’d stop the bicycle and open the sacks, and he’d find only sand.
A few years later, he ran into the biker in a restaurant in Tijuana. After some small talk he said, “Come on. I know you were smuggling something all that time. I won’t tell. I’m just curious. What was it?”
The man replied, “Bicycles.”