Everything's Trash, But It's Okay

by Phoebe Robinson

so I guess watching peak Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn is enough to get my motor running, which is something I can’t unlearn about myself.

But I don’t necessarily want to be the belle of the ball; I want to be the basic bitch of a Raymour & Flanigan

don’t need to be out in these streets dealing with all these smalls masquerading as mediums

I was ready to pop my couture cherry, which is similar to popping one’s sexual cherry because Sade is played in the background.

It’s a damn shame that it wasn’t until I became a size 10/12 that I truly realized the body-shaming spell I’m under.

Dare to roll your eyes at this person who thinks that pulling a Mark Darcy and telling you, “I like you very much, just as you are,” should end with them bodysurfing out the room with a fireworks display going off in the background.

Dare to do for yourself what Bridget couldn’t do: Look at yourself in the mirror and say, “I like myself just the way I am.”

You know when you can’t find your remote so you’re like, “I guess I’m just going to watch this Supernatural marathon until my butt cheeks go numb”?

So, to recap: (1) Being single is fun sometimes (assuming the starfish position in bed without having to worry about bumping into anyone is #Goals), and at others, it blows

Ain’t nobody got time for you to be stuttering like Roger Daltrey when he sings “My Generation.” Haha. That is the most old-ass reference I could use. This is what happens when you’ve had a white bae and gone to hockey games.

Do not go to Serbia in August. It was hot. Actually, it was disrespectfully hot. Ignorant, even.

while dabbing my sweaty body with napkins the way bougie people dab a slice of greasy pizza.

just had a feeling there was going to be hella crudités.

I’d call for help like a cocoa Veruca Salt,

When a black mom says to you, “I’m not one of your little friends,” please consider your life canceled;

there’s nothing better than seeing someone you love figure out a part of their life, not because they were forced to but because they wanted to.

To prepare for this encounter, I started a juice cleanse . . . then ended it six hours later and had mac and cheese.

I wrote my U2 bone list, and everyone at my publishing house was like, “This is worthy of the trees we’re about to kill,”

“Huh?” I said in the voice of a woman in a horror movie who wastes time questioning everything, causing delays that get people killed.

yhisphered aka yell-whispered.

Now that we have my demise moistly figured out (leaving the typo because it’s clearly a gift from the Kwanzaa gods),

to the Couv (no one calls it that)

Vancouver…. Maybe they should!

Seriously, like, dude, if you know we’re about to go out to a party, maybe don’t eat seventy-two different kinds of lettuce and arugula because

Tennis is one of my favorite sports to watch, and I’ve been #TeamRafa since he came on the professional tennis circuit back in 2002. He is, hands down, one of the best to ever play the game, and the fact that he is a person of color

Needle scratch…how so???

Mishy pulled out a bunch of CDs and turned on some Jimmy Buffett, and the three of them rocked the hell out while I pulled a Jim from The Office and blank-stared at the camera that wasn’t there.

is like eating an omelet made entirely out of eggshells. #Wut #WhoWouldEatThat #WhoWouldMakeThat #ImNotGoodAtAnalogies #IveWrittenABookBefore #How.

so with the confidence and slight BO of a hippie yoga teacher,