мɑгκ

I’ll see your flatiron and raise you a moody black‑and‑white Photo Booth flatiron from the archives. Now if you need me, I’ll be blasting My Chemical Romance on my iPod.

The guns are definitely gunning.

It's the kind of device Steve Jobs would have loved, and it's a great way to bring millions of new users to the Mac. Every review has been an absolute banger.

Not being the target audience doesn't stop me from loving every phenomenal MacBook Neo review that drops — or from enjoying the Windows and Chromebook crowd collectively losing their minds over it. Stay mad, bitches.

I misread that.

Attaboy.

Now this is a delicate situation, Jake.
…Wait, no it isn’t. This is social media—who gives a shit?

Toxic masculinity implies the existence of Oops!... I Did It Again masculinity.

Which is also the title of my autobiography.

I just paid my taxes. Chicago, the potholes should be fixed any day now.

Looks good on you, and I also hate you for it.

Where’s the star of the show — the new garage door?

How could you ever replace 🕳️?

With friends like these, who needs enemas?

When you forgot you made plans, but your friends won’t let you cancel.

We both know that your bussy gets wet with a strong breeze!

An-225 😉

A man after my own heart.

No roots yet. I've been using this purple shampoo that makes it look like Barney jizzed in my hair, but it seems to help.

Not to alarm anyone, but is anyone else concerned about how fucking stupid everyone seems lately?

It’s giving coquettish ingenue.

We really, really, really need to get you some hobbies.

How I feel after losing an hour of sleep.

We change our clocks tonight. I’m setting mine to the ’90s

The best grandma to ever exist.

95 and still a stunner.

Do you instinctively pose like this in front of every mirror? Because I’m starting to notice a pattern. 😁

(remembering Real Sex)

These days you just can’t win for losing, my friend.

He must follow your account. 😉

“Shhh, everyone! Meghan McCain is talking!” — said no one, ever.