You know, I've never actually run across someone my age with same birthday. This is rather neat. Happy birthday to you, too!
You know, I've never actually run across someone my age with same birthday. This is rather neat. Happy birthday to you, too!
I turned 26 today and, sadly, do not look like Salma Hayek, at 45, does in a bikini. Ah, well...I will just console myself and my cellulite with large amounts of birthday cake. Win/win.
Other possible things the Miners were suing their mother over:
As another Texan, this made me laugh hysterically...then get really depressed, because it's true for way too many people. At least I hear less of it in Austin than where I went to college.
My favorite thing about the Old Navy article is that the Daily News recognizes the missing apostrophe, but in their own "correct" version neglects to add a comma after "Let's go." (They're addressing the school, so a comma is needed before the name.) Not even the corrected version is totally correct!
Wait, you mean teenage boys don't do stupid shit in other parts of the country? Consider my mind blown. So, the drag races held in the Dell Computers parking lot when I was in HS could have been stopped if we'd said, "Boys, just tell each other you're manly, so we can go to Amy's Ice Cream?"
Fun fact: Two of other dresses on the Perry site, one in a car print fabric and the other in a camera print, both originally retailed for $495. You can buy the EXACT SAME Japanese cotton fabric by Echino for $20/yard. [superbuzzy.com]
Erin, where were you with this article when I was 14? Never ever did it occur to my tiny pubescent blonde brain to just use something stronger than toilet paper. This article should, by law, always accompany the OMG WHITE PANTS + BLOOD = TOTAL LIFE-ENDING EMBARRASSMENT stories in Seventeen. Get on that, proverbial…
This is what happens when royals start marrying commoners. Duchess Shinylocks was the first sign of the classpocolypse. What's next, the Queen drinking bagged tea? The horror! *shakes head*
Damn it, Bradley Cooper! First I find out you were an English major at Georgetown and now this? You're making it so hard for me to properly hate you! Please stop being so surprisingly smart and well-rounded. It's killing me.
Why the nude pantyhose hate? It's not like she's wearing them with peep-toes! I actually kind of adore pantyhose, especially with a retro back-seam. Knowing Pippa, hers are probably some sort of divine, crazy expensive silk, as well. These aren't a sin unless you're a campaigner for the rights of silkworms.
I feel very out of the loop. So, a "virtual good" is something that's...not real? Well, alright then, I'm not going to shell out real money for an imaginary ray gun either, no matter how awesome the game is. If I'm buying something online, I want it to show up at my doorstep ready to zap some actual aliens, not…
I know she's a cartoon and all, but...I'm really jealous of her fabulous, fabulous hair. Also: her obviously mad bow & arrow skills.
Sigh. I can honestly say I don't care one whit how opulent Strauss-Kahn's townhouse is. He's the former head of the IMF. It's not like anyone expected him to cool his heels at a Motel 6. I'm with you, Anna - the real story should be whether or not he's guilty of the assault, not how many skylights he has.
Wow. Way to take "She was asking for it!" to a whole horrible new level, Utah. Because - yes - the proper response to a woman who touches herself is "She's a prostitute!", not "She's dancing!" or "She has an itch!"
The swim noodle thing is odd and all, but...WHO CARVES A WATERMELON INTO A HEAD, THEN LEAVES IT ON A BEACH TO ROT? He should be also be convicted of Unlawful Waste of a Really Delicious Fruit.
I really want to say something funny about women = cars or what have you, but I've got nothing. What an evil thing to think, much less say.
I can't either! It's driving me crazy.
Yeah, I totally still use AIM. I like the interface better than Facebook and Gchat.
I think this is a brilliant action taken on part of the Panhellenic Council. Definite shades of Lysistrata. Well done, Dartmouth women!