Dear Naked Yoga Girl,
You accidentally showed up — spread eagle — in my Instagram feed a few weeks ago. At first, I was startled to see your tan, toned butt cheeks pressed ever so gently against a wooden dock in Bali while a phallus-shaped tree lingered in the background. But upon further inspection, I realized you were simply trying to juxtapose the naturalness of your naked body with the carefully crafted surroundings. You also managed to do this empowering move while adhering to Instagram’s strict user guidelines. So freaking inspirational.
Since our serendipitous meet cute, you have really shifted…
I will happily escape to Cancun and enjoy a bottle of bubbly by myself, but obviously only if Thy wills it
Our Father, who art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come in the form of “me time”
Thy will be done on earth,
as it is in heaven.
Please, dear Lord, could Thy will possibly include:
A weeks-long business trip for my spouse.
My children being abducted by aliens, or angels — whatever
is most pleasing to You.
(You can leave the dog, if Thy wills it. She is harmless.)
Give us this day our daily bread.
Dear modern humanity,
Please accept this open letter as a formal resignation notice from my position as the original high horse, effective immediately.
After careful consideration, and centuries of service to people in positions of wealth and power, my back has finally broken under the weight of the new world: where everyone’s voices must be heard at any cost, and anyone with an opinion (however ill-informed or irrational) feels the need to hop up on me and go to town.
I daresay, I knew things were getting a little out of control in the 1940s, but the last few years…
Dear Woke Girl,
What a breath of fresh, sustainable air to stumble upon your Instagram feed yesterday, albeit unintentionally. Truth be told, I was doing a search query for “gals with guns” for an in-depth gun control exposé I’m working on; but the social media platform redirected me (weird!?) to “gals with buns” — and whoop, there you were.
When I saw how perfectly your messy bun was coiffed atop your beautiful, unfiltered face, and how expertly you’d wrapped yourself in an eco-friendly, $2000 pashmina (not to be confused with the banned shahtoosh) shawl, I immediately thought: this woman is…
A special game for those who aren’t coupled up this Valentine’s Day.
Simon says raise your hand if you’re a single lady.
Look me in the eyes and call me big daddy.
By George, this is a smart group! Way to go gals, not one of you fell for the initial test. Let’s get on with it then, shall we?
Simon says stomp your feet like you’re crushing all the couples who won’t invite you to their dinner parties, because they think you will feel awkward. When, in fact, they are the awkward ones.
Simon says wiggle your hips like…
If we take a page from the Brady-Mahomes playbook, we can all win.
In the days of Joe Montana and Warren Moon, we seasonally trekked from Topeka, Kansas to Kansas City, Missouri for Chiefs home games. Once dumped from the stadium exit ramp at Blue Ridge cutoff, my father patiently filed behind a long line of cars filled with anxious passengers, eventually taking a spot in the Arrowhead Stadium parking lot. For my brothers and I, donned in matching red and yellow Chiefs-logoed sweat suits, the wait seemed like hours. Without fail, one of us desperately needed to use the…
Name: Galileo di Vincenzo Bonaulti de Galilei, perhaps you’ve heard of me?
Age: Philosophically speaking, age is just a number, is it not?
Do you speak any languages besides English? DO I.
Have you ever auditioned for or been a performer, participant or contestant on a reality or other TV or radio show or in a film? Fascinating use of the run-on sentence. This is indeed my first attempt at modern stardom and somewhat of a “comeback” for me.
Simon says take off your cutesy floral skirt and put on a pair of gender-neutral leather pants.
Simon says stand on one foot, while also juggling four frying pans and reciting today’s history lesson on the Battle of Bunker Hill from memory.
Simon says raise your hand tentatively, like you may know the answer to a question. Raising it quickly and confidently is a little showy and no one likes the appearance of a “know it all” (even though you basically do).
Apologize for knowing the answer.
NO! Don’t apologize. Simon did NOT say to do that.
Simon says NOW…
Simon says touch your perfectly crafted Roman nose.
Simon says put your right arm in the air, like you’re waiting your turn to ask a question — even though you should just interrupt whoever is talking because what you have to say is probably more important.
Put your other arm in the air too, then wave them around like you just don’t care about anyone’s personal space, because you don’t!
Ha! Simon didn’t say. Not to worry young friend. Although you should technically be “out,” you can just stay. The rules don’t apply to you, silly.
Simon says touch your…
Wearing red makes me feel powerful and blue makes me feel sexy, but someone will definitely hate me by the end of the soirée.
I am getting dressed for this party but having trouble picking out my sweater. One is red, the other blue. In fact, I’m afraid no matter which sweater I choose, someone is likely to give me a dirty look and whisper something nasty under their breath. If they would just give me a chance to explain myself, I think they would totally accept and agree with my fashion sense!
My red sweater really puts an emphasis…
Nashville-based writer. Words in Inc, Forbes, Slackjaw, JAW, How Pants Work, LOL Comedy, Weekly Humorist, Points in Case, and countless “thank you” notes.