It was a shocker. A heart-punch. I know Jezebel’s made some ugly mistakes, but that one really set the high water mark for me. It was breathtakingly foul. I remember Tracie adamantly insisting that 13 wasn’t so very young, and feeling my skull detonate into atoms.

Hey Shel, were you around in the bad old days when Tracie Egan and Jessica Grose did that hideously cheerful back-and-forth about the Polanski case? Maybe in 2008? I know you’re a fellow old-timer, but I can’t remember if you were around for that catastrophic shitstorm. The comment section was a fucking nuclear bomb…

Everyone should read this. Everyone. Every last motherfucker who makes excuses for Polanski should be made to acquaint themselves with the sordid, shameful, evil details.

She just makes them herself! She’s half British, half Hong Kong Chinese, and it cracks her up to make them whenever she has any of us over for dinner. She fairly cackles with delight when she hands them out, because she is a) awesome and b) sick in the fucking head.

Here is pretty much the only secret of the universe that I’ve figured out: we shouldn’t spend one more minute of our lives worrying about when our pets will go. We should just love them and enjoy every moment we can. We can’t protect our hearts by worrying about losing them. The sadness will come, no matter how we try…

YOU ARE LOVELY. Thanks for the gentle kindness, friend.

It’s my FAVOURITE. Slices right through my soft, tender, shiny-eyed optimism like a scalpel through Play-Doh.

I have a friend who makes her own fortune cookies with the darkest, most existentially fucking depressing messages inside them. Like: “Love is a chemical illusion,” and “The whistle on your life jacket will attract no attention,” and “Entropy always wins in the end, asshole.”

My beloved asshole cat died earlier this year, and it’s been unexpectedly difficult to unshackle myself from my cat lady identity. I’m travelling a lot, so it doesn’t make sense to get another furry fuckface right now, but I feel bereft. Not just of a cat, but my of my truest, most essential self.

Then why in God’s name did you click on and read this article about them? Why? Life is so short, and you should spend it as much of it as you can doing things that bring you joy. If you loathe these people, set yourself free, kid. Emancipate your brain. Scroll past this article and read another. Go watch YouTube…

Jesus. Who knew erotic prose about an iPod was my particular kink?

I miss that dope click-wheel. I miss it so hard. That was one beautiful piece of design, wasn’t it? I can still remember the frisson of near-erotic pleasure I got the first time I slid my fingertip around it. Sexy motherfucker. Knew exactly what it was doing to me, the dirty bastard.

Daniel Craig’s No Fucks To Give 2015 tour is my EVERYTHING. Honestly, he is filling me with fizzing, irrepressible delight these days. You can almost taste the acid he’s radiating.

Kara, your inclusion of Lin-Manuel Miranda—the magical music pixie—has improved my day immeasurably. I just want to bottle him.

Yo, you step back on the slap-trash talk about Mamie. She’s a peach. Her sublime turn on The Good Wife is a thing of absurd majesty. Are we gonna have to take this outside, Cream? ‘Cause you should know I brought nunchucks.

Exaaaaaaaactly. Although I’m not even sure I could even realistically have sex with him. It’d sort of be like having sex with a chair. I mean, that’s cool if someone’s really into chairs, but I’m just not sure I could even feign convincing sex noises. But awww. Bless his charmingly forgettable android heart.

YOU are my bestie, you delightfully deranged buttercup.

You take my breath away, you gorgeously generous human being. Thank you for the loveliness. I’m going to keep you forever.

I don’t really know what’s happening to me. I never used to think anything at all about Bradley Cooper. And then I made the grim mistake of watching The Hangover and—god forgive me—The A-Team, and thought only bad things about Bradley Cooper. And it is hard to argue with the fact that he is an entirely appropriate…

You are a marvel. A living embodiment of the triumph of mouth over brain. It’s not every day you encounter someone entirely unfettered by five thousand years of rational human enquiry, but here you are. Impressive work. You’re an inspiration to the witless everywhere.