The Breakfast Club, of course! I've never actually been able to sit through all of Sixteen Candles or Pretty in Pink. The main characters annoyed me too much, even when I was 16. And Jake Ryan was such a chad, I just couldn't. Different strokes, man. I was all about Bender, and I blame him completely for my thing for…

Yesss! Literally nothing else in life has made me want to wake up at 6am on a Saturday. Early morning Pokemon!

Truth! Buying my Gameboy Color was probably one of my proudest childhood achievements. I dug it up over Christmas and beat Pokemon Yellow again for old times' sake. Hey, WhyTF isn't Pokemon on this bracket?

My brothers and I shared a Gameboy pocket! Blood was spilled over that thing. We instituted 2 hour turns and spent the waiting time hanging over the player's shoulder telling them what to do until that ended in a fight, too. Despite (or because of?) all the angst and suffering it caused, Gameboy must win!

The shipwreck one! It combined my love of daydreaming about surviving disasters and, of course, the Babysitters Club. Plus, Jamie aka the cutest 4-year-old ever straight up almost died. Dramaaaa!

I finally know how to market my car when it's time! It also features TWO HUGE DENTS and, special bonus, only ONE PERSON (that I know of) has thrown up in it! But don't worry, it was mostly just booze and strawberry Jell-O!

Ah ha. Well, no one's ever accused 7-year-olds of being highly intelligent! I did get pretty far on contextual clues, though, because you're right: you're being pedantic ;)

Hanging upside-down in their caves wrapped in their wings like the bloodsucking scum they are, of course.

I think that applies to the second book a lot more than the first. *Spoilers so many spoilers*

When I read Matilda for the first time at age 7 or so, I wasn't sure what words like crisps (potato chips!), plaits (braids!), 'the kitty' (piggy bank?), boils (zits!), or pence and pounds (British money!) meant. But you know what? I looked at the surrounding context and I FIGURED IT THE FUCK OUT! If a 7-year-old can…

Ahh no way!! I'm totally going to try to make these! Hope they taste much better than the drink, though.

I'm spending St. Paddy's Day not-shitfaced for the first time since I came of drinking age- more because my friends are lazy/moved away than by choice. So thanks for some mature adult ideas for what to do! I'll pretend the lack of Irish car bombs (kind of an awful drink name, right?) tonight is because I'm refusing to…

It's a lot like Lost in that as soon as a character gets his or her own special chapter and you start to feel feelings for them, they promptly die. That got reeeal old in the second book.

Cool, but WTF is up with Dexter's apartment in later seasons? He's got like two connected and keeps his kid in the other one? I was hoping Lizarralde would have answers for my VERY IMPORTANT QUESTIONS!

Exactly this! I very rarely cry, but when I get really really upset (like angry or feeling unfairly wronged) it just happens and I can't stop it, and then I get angrier at myself, and then it's even harder to stop crying. And then I have to flee because I will not cry in front of people. I hate losing arguments…

See, that is smart shit. I have no idea where my birth certificate or important documents are, but damned if I don't always know where Bunny is in case of emergency. Because he's usually on my bed... I should hide my birth certificate inside his stuffing. Problem solved!

Hahaha the fisting thing just made me bust out laughing.

Yeah Bunnies! Mine still lives in or near my bed, and I'm a gd adult now. He's lookin pretty rough though; I used to chew on his whiskers and ears as a little kid, and his tail fell off a couple years ago. I sewed it back on with dental floss.

Duuude Animorphs! I just rescued my collection from my dad's house last week when he threatened a purge of my childhood closet. They now sit proudly on my bookshelf, taking up their own whole damn shelf. I plan on bequeathing them to my future grandchildren someday.

I'm pretty sure the only toy I've ever given a major shit about is my stuffed rabbit, equally creatively named Bunny. The flash flood warning siren went off one night last year during this crazy rainstorm and it only took a moment to decide what I cared about enough to take with me if we had to evacuate: laptop,…