Some people call it a disorder; I call it a gift.
Shit's a little dusty
Previous posts on The Indalian Job:
- No Touch!
- The Memo
- Death by Cheapness
- I’m Colored? Oh, Word?
- Not the Sexy Kind of Fear
- Happy Birth— Shut Your Mouth!
- How Tan is Too Tan?
- The Jana Who Stole Christmas
- It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane
- Enjoy the Muffin!: It’s Filled with My Sadness
- Election 2008: So Motherfucking Here
- The Prostitute is Back Out on Our Corner
- Hermitage
- The Sikdar Stress Reduction Workshop
- The RNC Killed My Funny
- Toothless and Pooped Upon: A Tale of Two Siblings
- Cruelty, thy name is Dr. Krister Håkansson
- Old People Fuck? Well How About That
- Is It a White Thing?: Complaining About Vacations
- Dearest Babysa
- Chick Crack
- The Dead Nana: Volume III
- The Dead Nana: Volume II
- The Dead Nana: Volume I
- Put the Fork Down!
Oftentimes, less is more. (Like when you're thinking of trying to stuff that last half pound of ricotta into your lasagna—which you shouldn't do!) But sometimes, just sometimes . . . more is more. This is one of those times . . .
Old columns for the Yale Daily News:
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Getting soft senior year sucks
Cerebella succumb to senior stress
It's all puppies and rainbows til graduation
Laughing, crying, and losing someone you love
Life after Yale: a 'choose your own adventure' sans paper cuts
Animal Planet, New Haven episode
When an ovum revolts, there's no recourse but couples counseling
Team monogamy: the advantages of whoredom
When backhanded compliments backfire
After eight rainy days, all aboard the ark
Awkward conversation knows no boundaries
Tasti-D and Trumbull renovations are Satan
Pondering the meaning of life? Don't read this
Avoid the freshman fugue and accept that you're in freak-land
Does the way you pleasure yourself reveal how successful you will be?
New Year, same old you: let it go!
You don't have to take it—Just say no to The Game
Feeling sad? A recap of election night 2004 will brighten your spirits
Not on her period, up your dash
