Laura Jayne Martin

Nothing says, “I’m gay” like one of those audible Hallmark cards that literally says, “I’m gay.”

‘Twas the night before Thanksgiving when all through the bar, not a creature was sober, y’all know who you are.

Something weird is going to happen. My recently single, reliably wonderful friend named “Mansion” is going on a road trip with a (very) old boyfriend. Okay, so her name’s not really “Mansion.” But so what if it was?

Oh, I’m sorry. Did you come here looking for advice?  Perhaps you saw the title of this post and thought you might learn a little something about what women (yes, every single one) want in a woman.

“Here’s your B-12,” my doctor said as he plunged a syringe into my left shoulder.  I like my doctor. But that’s a story for another time. This is about Tuesday when I’m pretty sure I got high on B-12.

This week, my guests are Brad Pike and Oliver Miller who eat candy and tell a lot of lies.

1. Liz Lemon – This drug is kind of like Molly, but instead of dancing wildly, you zanily eat cheese in bathtubs and hope someone finds it endearing. 2.

Don’t call me. Don’t call me on your way home. Don’t call me because you’re bored or you’re waiting for someone else. Don’t call me to ask if we can just talk.

84. What your braces say about your problem-solving abilities.

Thoughts alone of your incandescence are strong enough to produce a physical sensation of heat.

I’ve been thinking about giving up.  Not in the complete sense of the term. I’ve been thinking about giving up in a smaller way—in a way that recognizes certain things are not working.

Ladies and Gentlemen, my apologies, but the letter is closed. Despite generations of flawless idea exchanges via open letters, you know, ones that always produce the desired result, this letter is closed.