Good ideas I have had: 'Put the Thin Mints in the freezer.'

I got one of my exams back, and I was reading over my essay, and I came to this section:

"To please the character of Lord Henry, I'll insert an aphorism here:"

And that was when I realized that my essay was a pretentious bastard. Luckily it was on Oscar Wilde, so it probably just came across as thematic.

I'm developing a theory that Girl Scout Cookies are actually part of some secret plot by the Girl Scouts to take over the world and make us all their macramé-braiding slaves. I think I could probably eat a whole box of Thin Mints in one day if I didn't restrict myself to one serving size at a time, and since you can only get them once a year, for the other 364 days I'm a slobbering idiot jonesing for my crispy, minty, chocolaty fix. It's evil, I tell you. Deliciously, deliciously evil.

And I'm not even talking to the box of 'Lemonades' I was bullied into buying. I wanted my lemon creme sandwich cookies, but was informed that those no longer existed, and I had to have these instead. I'm suspicious of them and they thus far remain unopened. I mean, they have lemon slices stamped on them. It doesn't seem right.

They stopped making these square cookies with animals on them that were dipped in fudge on one side, and this is truly tragic. I wanted them. I wanted to nibble all around the edges and then try to cut out the giraffes with my teeth and lord them over regular animal crackers. (Which everyone knows are really cookies so why perpetuate the lies? I'm suddenly nostalgic for those little animals covered in white frosting and sprinkles. Do they call those 'crackers' too?)

According to my NYTimes feed, it's possible that pretty soon I'll be one step further away from being a second class citizen. That's exciting, and would merit a lot more discussion from me, but I have Thin Mints, which thanks to my brilliant notion of sticking them in the freezer, are no longer melting in the bipolar climate control of my dormitory.

See, it's not like I want to get married. It's that I don't like being told that I can't get married, like I can't serve openly in the military. It's someone else telling me that I'm not good enough.

You know what would be great? Thin Mint ice cream sandwiches.