I’m a monkey. You want me at your party.
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cookie monster
The only good part about Valentine’s Day is Bree’s annual cookie-decorating soiree, which I’ve missed for the past three years. I was back in full effect on Sunday, Super Bowl be damned. I am a cookie-decorating rockstar (and stylish plate fiend). BOOYAH! This poor swine has the flu. TRAMP STAMP COOKIE! For the record, I…
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nicollet caged
They say they can tell you weren’t born in Minneapolis by the way you can’t get Nicollet out your mouth right. Gotta swallow that middle syllable whole (read: there isn’t one) while giving a little headjerk nod of knowing, like acknowledging a peripheral you don’t actually want to talk to or pretending you’re a horse.…
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this how we do
This is what we’re made of, where we came from, what we’re for.
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festive appliance
And yet I am accused of insufficient holiday spirit.
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rapt & grabby
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window lady, snow hair, the saddest lips of all
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north dakota tree
Invasive.
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putting the dick in dick’s sanitation
The pile outside my window has been growing all week.
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whittier hell note
If the French hadn’t colonized Vietnam, I wouldn’t be eating this tasty bread.
