Twig let’s not

Are Twiglets like boarding school where the English are forced into them as children, and years later convince themselves they actually enjoyed the experience out of psychological preservation?

My Mom seemingly out-smarted the supply chain and secured a source of the “good” (read: Cadbury) Christmas candy, and saw that these were listed as Britain’s favorite snack, and picked some up.

My God, at least with Marmite, we eventually learned we were all just preparing it wrong, I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do with these.

“How was the trip?” – Tom

“Good, man.” – Greg

“I hear Uncle Ewan’s quite a character.” – Tom

“Oh it was alright I eventually found an economics podcast he liked to shout at.” – Greg

Beating a dead it’s kind of a small horse

The problem with divining intention from an Instagram post is the only reason to go on Instagram is to lie. Between intentional deception and human error, the potential for miscommunication is massive. I disagree with the brazen assumptions being made about Chris Pratt over an Instagram caption. Sure, Chris Pratt could be some sort of late-in-life misogynist, or he just could have been attempting a cutesy post about how much he loves his wife. A little nod to all the lonely hearts, not to get discouraged, a good Christian woman is still out there. Across the moat and over the drawbridge at Scientology-lite sneaker church. A sturdy broodmare from a long line of Austrian dual-citizens and philanderer-murderers ready to accept your seed. Pay no attention to these heathens, contorted by vice, with their out-of-wedlock children. You have everything you need. You too can deliver the franchise money to the Sneaker King and secure yourself a maiden. Dare to dream. Of sea air and Adirondack chairs and visits to Memaw and Pepaw’s where the chosen play fuck marry kill with real congressional staffers. All you have to do is maintain your virtue!