Hello everybody if you're

if you're bloated and you know clap your hands clap clap

clap red orange yellow green blue Orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.

If you have the luxury of not knowing what that fucking song is,

I pity you, and by pity I mean I am deeply

deeply jealous of you being able to live in the dark

untethered to the toxic trenches that is Miss Rachel and her closet buttfucker has been. I am on

the tail end of my son's first birthday weekend. It is 7.05 a.m. on Monday morning. I am so deeply bloated.

I woke up. I put some oil on my skin and you know a little bit of a lip

glass which is just so embarrassing because like that's going to fucking help and

rolled into the studio because we have things to discuss.

Did I throw a fraternity-themed birthday party for my one-year-old son?

Yes I did. Is it setting him up for a life of toxic masculinity?

Absolutely not. That was a DM that I got.

Wow, Jackie! A one-year-old's birthday and you have flags around your house that say

there's some hoars in this house promoting smoking drinking and and you know hetero-normative behaviors

yeah he's my son he's gonna be just fine

if my dreams come true he'll be tap dancing into a rainbow by age five so are we going to do a

cheese dick frat party for his first birthday you bet you iris now I am so good at my new shit details and so bad at like overall you know

picture I didn't have a birthday cake ordered until like 48 hours beforehand.

I'm like, oh yeah, birthday's cake, got it.

But did I have candy cigarettes with his face on it?

...