I Don't Care If You Think I'm

I Do Love Poop. I Can't Help It. The Heart Wants What It Wants. I Enjoy Being Clever And Pithy And Political, But Nothing's Going To Get Me Like Dumb Stuff.

I Got Jury Duty And I Didn't Want To Go, So My Friend Said, "you Should Write Something Really Really Racist On The Form When You Return It. Like, You Should Put 'i Hate Chinks'." And I Said, "i'm Not Going To Put That On There Just To Get Out Of Jury Duty. I Don't Want People To Think That About Me." So Instead I Wrote, "i Love Chinks." And Who Doesn't?

My Mom Was Always Someone Who If, Even Now, I Say I Met A Certain Famous Person, She Always Says, "she's Married To So And So!"

My Stepfather, John O'hara, Was The Goodest Man There Was. He Was Not A Man Of Many Words, But Of Carefully Chosen Ones. He Was The One Parent Who Didn't Try To Fix Me. One Night I Sat On His Lap In His Chair By The Wood Stove, Sobbing. He Just Held Me Quietly And Then Asked Only, "what Does It Feel Like?" It Was The First Time I Was Prompted To Articulate It. I Thought About It, Then Said, "i Feel Homesick." That Still Feels Like The Most Accurate Description - I Felt Homesick, But I Was Home.

It's Really Stupid To Defend Your Own Jokes. That Is For Other People To Do If They Choose To.