According to Trish

not worth reading since 2009

Weddings and Babies and Bruno

Posted By on Feb 27, 2018

So I’m back at Panera. My old Panera. The one I used to come to to cry and kill time when my ex-husband and I were separating so many years ago … And why I am here now after so many years? Because I just dropped my kids off at the hospital — where my ex-husband’s new wife just had their new baby. Today, instead of killing time until my ex’s visitation time is over, I’m killing time until my kids are done...

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Give me a gut check on this apparently unpopular opinion that I hold. I think Franken’s resignation was premature. It shut down the opportunity to go ahead and have the ethics investigation, which I think would’ve been useful.   These allegations do not rise to the level of the other harassment we’ve been hearing about, and they also do not seem particularly well substantiated. I’m also very bothered by the...

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Posted By on Nov 10, 2017

Louis C.K. My Louis. My fake fantasy boyfriend … HOW COULD HE? I am mentally throwing his belongings out onto the sidewalk below our imaginary New York City apartment right fucking now. Boom! You like this shirt, asshole? Well now it’s toilet paper for the dog that just shit on it! What about this bullshit I’m-just-a-regular-guy-like-you sweatshirt? It’s taking a leap, motherfucker! You better get between me...

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Things You Should Not Do Today

Posted By on Oct 24, 2017

Let’s be cranky this morning shall we? Here’s a list of things you should not do today: Come downstairs after rolling out of bed, give me the onceover (in my too-big jeans, baseball cap, and sweatshirt that I threw in the dark so I could take a kid to school in the rain) and declare “That’s a look” while sporting just-got-up Heat Miser hair. Write an article about “insanely awesome” healthy...

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During my sexual assault, I had a few minutes to think about how I wanted things to go. Sure, there was the distraction of the guy’s tongue in my mouth and his body pressing me against the wall … and the fact that one of his hands was on one of my boobs … but knowing that his mind was otherwise occupied meant I had a few minutes to plan. I thought about grabbing a lamp and bashing him over the head. But the problem...

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You know when you wake up with a mostly empty pizza box in your bed? Like, the self loathing is definitely there but it’s way overshadowed by “Awww yeah … THAT was a party …” That’s pretty much how I feel about the fact that I’ve watched the entirety of 30 Rock at least three times. (Yes. “At least.” I’m only copping to three.) BUT NOW I NEED TO YELL BECAUSE 30 ROCK IS...

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