First and Ellen is a tumblelog.

The makeup that you use to catch some eyes and hide your imperfections does little to conceal an ego that’s been bruised many times, but you’ve left it at home with your underwear.

But honestly I don’t mind who you do or don’t tonight; you’re still ugly on the inside.

You’ve got time to change. Go ahead and drink those drinks. Drunk again, someone will drive you home.

Je défie les lois de l’extrème onction, de la mauvaise viande à des fins de mécréants.

Amy worked in a bar in Exeter. One night I went to her house and slept beside her. She woke up screaming in the middle of the night, terrified of her own insides.

I continue working because I agree with Sigmund Freud’s definition of mental health. To be healthy means to love and to work. Both activities are good for the soul, and one of them also helps to pay for the groceries.

My old man always said that Hell would have no flame, just a front row seat to watch your true love pack up things and drive away.

And, all of a sudden, this strange ticking begins coming out of the dashboard. He rips out the control panel, right? Takes out his tools, trying to find this sound, trying to stop this sound. But he can’t find it, he can’t stop it. It keeps going. A few hours into this, it begins to feel like torture. A few days go by with this sound and he knows that this small sound will break him. He’ll lose his mind. What’s he gonna do? He’s up in space! Alone! In a space closet! He’s got twenty-five days left to go with this sound.

So, the cosmonaut decides the only way to save his sanity is to fall in love with this sound. He closes his eyes and he goes into his imagination. And when he opens them, he doesn’t hear ticking anymore. He hears music. And he spends the remainder of his time sailing through space in total bliss and peace.

So you can find some local libertine to take your daughters out on the town.

What do you want besides more?