CatHullabaloo
CatHullabaloo
CatHullabaloo

No, that is straight-up Drag Queen Barbie and I want it in my life SO BADLY.

Obvi the former, as it was revealed in the One True Way, via the Glorious Revealing of the 1972 Cosmo centerfold, that our own humble Burt would one day become the chest-hair-wrangler and New Oracle of the Original. (You have to read between the lines, but it's all clear in the subtext). She is Coming Home. Burt

HOLY FUCK, she is actually BATSHIT INSANE. That prepared speech with the little moues and condescension, WOW. Lady, take this shit to your local revival and keep it out of politics.

So I have seen the word that Burt is moving on, but I don't know to where. What's the sitch, has it been revealed? Enlightenment appreciated!

Three Babies and a Baby.

Thank fucking god. I am so disturbed on this young woman's behalf, though. The coverage I read up to this point (admittedly mostly on this site) indicated she had been raped with objects and digits (or that was how I read it - either a comprehension fail on my part, or details excluded as a necessary protection of

TERRORIST ANCHOR BABIES PLOTTING TO DESTROY U.S. AMERICA (in 20-30 years' time. Give or take). My GOD, it makes so much sense.

I just realized that, particularly after a couple of drinks, I respond out loud to internet videos when watching them alone in my apartment.

I can only promise you two things. 1) That we have an awesome Jez community here in London. 2) That you may touch my butt.

Brava! Well-said. As a lady-person, I do tie myself up in knots thinking about my reproductive and physical health, not to mention the welfare of my family! SILLINESS!

I made my own medal of memories and teenage bravado. THIS BUTT TOUCHED THAT BED. One day, if you ever come to London, I will allow you to touch my butt, and you will be forever blessed with a penchant for foie gras and an inherent, righteous need to gilt your entire home. GILT IT.

I sat on Louis XIV's bed in Versailles in the mid-'90s. It was just THERE and there were somehow no people in the room, and there was only a velvet rope between me and the bed, so I DID IT and then expected to be man-handled out of the place the whole rest of the time I was there, furtively darting around corners,

Rest assured, it is now in a glass case and surrounded at every point in time by a throng of Asian tourists ten people deep, clicking off camera phone pictures.

Oh, she hates him. She hates him so much it is PALPABLE. I hope she went back to her desk after this segment and ordered him a glitter bomb.

Genuine question I have asked before (not of you) - why bother? There are plenty of corners of the internet I choose not to frequent because I heartily disagree with the views on offer. I'm not going to change anyone's mind, and I just don't see the point in antagonizing or arguing with people whose worldview is

Way to denigrate a bunch of kids who are working as a team, with an inspiring coach, and succeeding in sports, despite odds against them.

A friend of mine had Jello Biafra stay in her apartment for nearly three weeks last year. She and her roommate nicknamed him 'Grumpy Bear.'

Correct headline is prophetically correct.

Between Waltz and Fiennes, I am slightly concerned by how intensely attracted I am to Men Who Have Played Nazis in Notable Films.

She is very naturally pretty, but the heavy overdo on the makeup/hair extensions is starting to make her look... mentally unwell.