Rob Gunther

There was no more trying to pretend that this wasn’t a serious problem. No matter how much I denied the possibility of what was going on, no matter how much I wanted to wake up as if this were all some sort of a bad dream, I kept shrinking, smaller and smaller.

But what about the seasoning? Won’t plain French fries taste a little bland?

Everybody’s always talking about how bad cigarettes are, that if you’re a smoker, you need to quit, or at least you need to move it outside, down the block, no seriously, even further, yeah I don’t care how cold it is, just keep walking.

Give her a box of nice chocolates and tell her that you can’t wait until tonight.

Way out in the distance there was this one buoy, and whenever I went for a dip, it called out to me.

I’m not going to lie, it’s still a little hard to drink fountain soda. It’s one of my all-time happiest pleasures that’s been forever ruined by that one motion.

I was actually kind of scared to go home.

It’s probably all in your head. That’s what you tell yourself anyway as you try unsuccessfully to fall asleep at night. But is it?

It’s not you, OK. I love you. But I’m really, really hungry. Can we please get something to eat?

Do you have to always be staring at him too?

I keep seeing them lately, articles on all of my favorite web sites, stuff like, “Check out these awesome life hacks!” and then you click through a bunch of pictures to find out tips and tricks that supposedly make everyday life a little easier.

I’m 30 now, and everything’s different.