- When I write my memoir, it shall be entitled, “TOOTING BROADWAY”
- When I write my cookbook, it shall be entitled, “Get Some Lemons and Wing It”
That is all.
That is all.
- That I can stand up and sit down in an airline seat without bracing myself on the seat of the person in front of me. I think this is a skill that all people who are not wearing babies should have, and I also think it is basic human courtesy, but we know how I feel about what happens to basic human courtesies on airplanes.
- That Charlie is not a person who watches 24. I never did, and I just don’t have the mental space for it, and it’s a relief to not have that pressure right now.
- Sikhs. Especially my lovely taxi driver. Sikhs are the best.
- That I like my friends’ babies almost as much as I like my friends, which is really saying something, because most of these friends have like 10-25 years of goodwill going for them in my book, and their babies have like, 7 weeks to 20 months (to be kind of specific).
- That I threatened, via Facebook, to use farts as a weapon, and my mom didn’t text me that it might be a bad career move (long story).
- New York, generally.
- Atlanta, generally.
Because what I meant was, “A Sketch About Farts And Making Out.”
Thoughts on the process:
Thirty more minutes of farts and making out, then bedtime.
To differentiate that from my average Monday night, I guess I should say: thirty more minutes of writing about farts and making out. THEN bedtime.
On my “berry veggie” Naked juice:
Meg: hahaha yeah that was like 15 ounces of fart plus 1/8 of a potato