Maris Crane, Frasier — This socialite’s obsessively slender frame may have played in the 90s, but in today’s booty-obsessed world, her lack of curves kill any dreams of Instagram fame. That’s a shame because her narcissistic personality and love of plastic surgery are an otherwise perfect match for the vapid…

The eighth color of the rainbow. — Mom and Dad, This is hard for me, so I’m going to come out and say it — I’m gray. I’m not one of those fancy grays, with an exotic name like “marengo.” I’ll never be listed on a paint swatch as charcoal. I’m utilitarian, a real basic bitch. …

What doesn’t kill you makes you higher — Dear Provost, Before you declare George Borewell the champion of the 100 meter sprint, I urge you to test his blood for drugs. I’d bet my overpriced tuition it won’t be positive for a single substance. This is the college championships. Students have the innate urge to experiment with every…

What a horrible day to have eyes — “Do you think he lost a bet?” — the group of friends pointing and laughing. “You need to move your hips.” — my oldest buddy, contorting my body like a marionette. “That’s why I stick to the corner.” — the wallflower dragged to the bar by his roommate. “Do I…

The manly approach to what ails you — You’re full of crap, literally. It’s been four days since your last bowel movement, and it’s feeling like you’re sitting on a pinecone. You’d do anything to relieve the pain. Well, almost anything. A friend suggests homeopathy. You can live with the silly premise and total lack of evidence, but…

Even bad people deserve good presents. — Are you kidding me, Nanna? I know you’re dead, but that’s no excuse for playing favorites. Cousin Sally inherits your diamond brooch, Aunt Janine gets your grand piano, and all I get is this lousy t-shirt? Is it because I never called? You were practically deaf! And it’s so stretched…