Yes, there are absolutely still people who would answer “yes” if it was phrased that plainly. It’s a privilege to be able to believe that there aren’t.

LOOKITIM STUMBLE IN THE SNOW.

Yes. It’s where I realized he’s the living embodiment of Gaston.

Okay fair enough, but writing this without smelling salts was a challenge and I’m not responsible for any errors

It’s how you know he isn’t much of a DJ

Ellie, here for you in this trying time but just cause it’s not morning here doesn’t mean it’s not morning wherever Ansel is (heaven).

but it sounds like rape advice given to girls “don’t dress like a slut” “don’t drink in public” etc

My daughter takes Krav Maga. I make her. She hates it but I don’t care. It’s important to me that she know how to kick someone’s ass if she has to.

I think you are right in some ways, a bit misguided in others.

You lectured her on the evils of “beating people up” in response to her story about how she saved her own life by defending herself against an attacker. And SHE’S the asshole? Nah brah.

My parents did not teach me to beat people up for crying out loud. They and my judo instructors taught me physical confidence and self-defense. I’ve never struck a person in my life besides a stranger who grabbed me by the throat while I was walking alone, dragged me into the bushes and raped me. There is absolutely…

And as we’ve seen over and over in so many woman-centric arenas—sexual assault prevention foremost among them—the impulse to protect is very different from the impulse to ensure equity, and the two things, worked out in practice, are often exactly at odds.

can’t wait until someone tells her that she, too, will die like everyone else

YOU HAVE 23 MINUTES BEFORE YOUR CHILD WAKES UP TO _BREATHE_?!?!?

And any special copper cups I had would have long been squirreled into his enormous toy pile and filled with crayons and weebles.

My cousin’s ex is vegan (the white, dreadlock-wearing, Brooklyn-living, yoga-teaching type) who’s all about all-natural, blah blah blah, and it’s fucking hilarious to me that as soon as her back is turned, their son wolfs down all the animal products he can get his hands on, the more processed the better. Mind you, no…

Did she confuse a cook book with a spell book? None of these things sound like real things.

I find it delightful that she eats all that ridiculous shit, yet her name is Bacon.

can’t wait until someone tells her that she, too, will die like everyone else

But doesn’t Esquire already really have that angle covered? I’m not sure who this is angled at because it seems like the barely legal photo with journalistic excellence is a weird recipe. Oddly the old format seemed less smutty than this clothed photo.