I think I get what she was going for - quirky/funny writing style, maybe mocking the original author. But it became completely unreadable. I had to scroll to the bottom, but then it didn't make sense because some detailed were in the bullets. I think for a shorter article, this would be fine - even funny. Not this one.

4) One at a time.

I'm having phantom TMJ pain.

Just ordered 2 books. Can already imagine them on my business envelopes. So excited!

Old. Uncool. And tired. I felt tired just thinking about how that would...unfold.

Not judging. But curious...

I really need to get out more. I mean, not double-dicking get out more, but just, you know...

She was so adorable in that movie. ADORABLE.

I didn't know I wanted this until just this moment! High five!

This...is a thing? I feel so...uninformed.

I have found acting* scared shitless works.

My worst sex ed moment came not from my Catholic school, but from my own mother. We were driving home from school one day (I was a freshman) and she stated in no uncertain terms that if I were to have sex, one or all of these things would happen:

Congratulations! I don't know you, but I love to follow your posts. So happy for you. And midwives ROCK. I hope you have a positive experience with your midwife. I am eternally grateful to mine.

Not to sound racist, but my body hurts from cleaning out my basement.

Thank you for reminding me not to panic. Sometimes I find myself reacting instead of listening or pausing to understand, especially when it comes to my son's education. I just don't want him to get the revisionist history that I got growing up. You provided a reasonable and very informative response. Thank you!

This seems like a good place to bring this up. My son's pre-K curriculum for the month says there will be a week of instruction on "Pilgrims and Indians". What do I say to the teacher? Because no.

The mind boggles. And this is why we can't have nice things. In this case, "nice things" are cancer-causing UV coffins.

Same here. Welcome to the club, not to be confused with the infinitely more popular kids' hang out: da club.

What seems off (to me) is the 'your so much better at writing than little ol' me that I just wanted to turn something in that was really brilliant since I can't hack it because I'm just a dum-dum writer' attitude. Is that faux ass kissing? I can't tell. But it smells of faux ass kissing. The kid should've admitted his…

I see what you did there, Ms Jackson.