Well Susan Boyle got a makeover (or maybe just a leather jacket), but I agree that the whole Susie saga was a staged. This guy unnecesarily subjected himself to waterboarding in the name of journalism when Christopher Hitchens did it months ago; this guy wrote a song about it. I am pretty much taking all this stuff off Flavorwire, so you could just read that tomorrow instead. I found out what a book sculpture would look like (wanted to know) and wrote a post about Kindles that generated little to no discussion.
But what did I eat? Frozen yogurt that tasted like soft ice cream, none of that tart shit. It was chocolate and vanilla swirl, with sprinkles on the top and bottom, and the highlight of my day. I also ate lasagna, a wichcraft sandwich, and possibly a shrimp tempura roll. This is getting embarrassing. Maybe I should do my food diary elsewhere?
Anyway, I told my therapist how I wished our sessions could be more like In Treatment, and I’d get mad at her and scream and throw things and she’d say “can’t you see you’re in love with me?” But that brought me to Paul getting sued and I wondered, aloud, how it could be possible for shrinks to defend themselves. And she said, “notes.” And I was like, “Molly, Paul doesn’t take notes. Do any therapists take notes?” And, you know what? She fucking takes notes. She pulled out my file and showed me like 20 pages of handwritten notes that she’s kept over the last year and a half. They we’re like “adopts a neurotic affect” “Talks negatively about self.” “Hates Foster City.”
This is not a personal blog.
