PinnedInMiddle-PausebyMaryAnn McIntyre·Sep 24He Told Me Exactly Why He Liked MeIt started with “I respect you as a person”A response icon15A response icon15
PinnedInNo TimebyMaryAnn McIntyre·May 15I’m Sixty, I Did Reconnaissance on a Barista, and My Daughter Is Done With MeA drive-thru, a blue pickup truck, and a lot of mispronounced coffeeA response icon92A response icon92
PinnedInThe MemoiristbyMaryAnn McIntyre·Aug 20He Was the Only One Who Heard MeHe died before I could understand what I’d lostA response icon32A response icon32
PinnedInMiddle-PausebyMaryAnn McIntyre·Jul 27My Daughter Handed Me a Joint, and I Have Never Felt More Sixty in My LifeOne hit. Game Over.A response icon47A response icon47
PinnedInMiddle-PausebyMaryAnn McIntyre·Jun 27The Waitresses Thought He Was DangerousI was on a first date. Three beers later I was trapped in an Applebee’s grief seminarA response icon91A response icon91
InAge of EmpathybyMaryAnn McIntyre·Oct 30Wait, What Did You Just Say?I learned to leave the room without ever getting upA response icon9A response icon9
InHot List EnergybyMaryAnn McIntyre·Oct 307 Musicians Who Paid Somebody’s Bills and Didn’t Brag About ItOne card was signed “Love from George Michael (AKA Anonymous)”A response icon3A response icon3
InHot List EnergybyMaryAnn McIntyre·Oct 298 Musicians Who Showed Up for SomebodyGene Simmons might be a jerk, but he still got on the planeA response icon17A response icon17
InAnother Fucking PublicationbyMaryAnn McIntyre·Oct 25Let the Fucking Shark Follow Me to Long IslandMy spooky This or That, with questionable logic and one green bean salad
InPubBeatbyMaryAnn McIntyre·Oct 6My Number One Song Is by a Band With a NumberFrom taping Casey Kasem to a concert with my kidA response icon4A response icon4
