sunday funday

happy mothers day! i don’t mean to brag, but my mom is the most stellar of them all and i’m not kidding. my mom is incredibly fantastic and i love her so much.

on that note i turn to VICE for some words of wisdom about my friends parents:

“still feel about party moms the way I felt as a fourth-grader about teenagers who smoked cigarettes in their cars on the way to school.”

happy mothers day via VICE 

FOOD! all i want is a hamburger. i gave up red meat and bread, but its been a solid 3 weeks so i might give in for one day. relapse?

dumont burger in williamsburg, brooklyn

whats your sunday funday like? are you sleeping or making eggs at noon? either way you need a playlist. i’ve got you covered mrow mrow. it’ll be the most random and awesome playlist ever:

crystal castles “courtship dating”

gotye “bronte”¬†need to fall asleep/feel like crying? this song is one of the most beautiful things i’ve ever heard.

and now that you’re thoroughly depressed listen to some of my favorite songs that have already been posted for an awesome sunday afternoon. live long and prosper.

and my actual favorite song:

 

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sunday funday: fried egg sandwich with bacon and blue cheese

this picture is the reason i need a butler. this is all i want in life right now…

the recipe and more hunger inducing photos are at smitten kitchen

people who judge my single post college lifestyle

“Listen, I take care of myself. I am in better shape than when I was bonging kegs in college and eating Penn Station for lunch. Sometimes I even cook. My refrigerator usually has more than hot sauce, celery and a NuvaRing in it. With that said, there is no shame in standing naked in your kitchen dipping french bread into mug full of olive oil.
I have a full-time grown-up job. I have coworkers and friends at work. I make money. I pay my bills. Some weeks my bar tab is more than my grocery tab, but I am not saving for a fancy new dresser or a light switch cover. This does not make me irresponsible; it makes me 27 and single and happy.”

Cleo Plagg on McSweeney’s

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