It’s Me, Macy’s Ronald McDonald Balloon, Afloat Yet Adrift
I look toward the Empire State Building and wonder if I should just puncture myself on its spire. Put myself out of my misery.
Entries by Jeremy Hooper
But Did You Put It on the Calendar?
You’re the woman of the house. The queen of all things domestic. I know I don’t tell you this enough, but your job as wifey is the most important one of all. Much more important than your actual job as named partner at your firm.
Snap, Crackle, Pop, Slurp: An Oral History
SNAP: All was going well. Kellogg’s was happy. CRACKLE: But Slurp was really hitting the milk hard. It started with Skim, but he was on Whole benders soon enough.
I Didn’t Grow Up. I’m Still a Toys R Us Kid. I Should’ve Thought This Through.
I might’ve grown into a Spencer’s Gifts tween, pretending to look at Simpsons posters while covertly peeping fuzzy handcuffs and naughty dice. I could’ve become a Gadzooks teen, shoplifting ironic ringer tees I only sorta understood. I could’ve aged into an HomeGoods adult, embracing the simple thrills of decorative farfalle housed in seafoam green canisters. Instead, I’m cursed to live in a label-scarred building that’s only seasonally used as a Spirit Halloween.
Why I, President Jimmy Carter, Am Considering Suing Hee Haw
The show’s animated mascot is a braying donkey. I am a praying member of the donkey party. I trust you all recognize this obvious attempt to make me look like a dopey cartoon.
I’m That Friend Who Always Asks if You’ve Hydrated and, Well, Have You?
It’s simple: Eight glasses, morning to night. If you’re like me, afternoons are mostly spent setting increasingly appreciable rage fires in increasingly busy Paneras, making that daypart less ideal. But whatever your hydration schedule, I find it best to begin when you first wake, right before the dark thoughts have settled in.
Ramona Quimby, Age 48
“What does she mean ‘don’t be late?’” grumbled Ramona. Just because her older sister is in her fifties, Beezus thinks she’s so special. She’s always bragging about all the hormone replacement she gets to do, as if it’s some big deal or something. “I get hot flashes too,” Ramona groused.
Why I, A Rat, Won’t Tolerate One More Day on This Sinking Ship
And here we are. I don’t like to use the word hero (though I’m sure I will, many times, when I write my memoirs). I’m just a simple rat who knows right for wrong when I see it. And then, someday, after years of consideration, I finally choose to listen to the searing fires of my burning conscience. It’s what any good, patriotic rat would do.
The Son From ‘Cats in The Cradle’ Would Like To Correct The Narrative
“My child arrived just the other day/He came to the world in the usual way” ~ Actually, my birth story’s quite harrowing. Dad, like most mid-twentieth century men, wasn’t even in the room. Mom was in labor for fifteen brutal hours. Far from “usual,” I’d say.