Hand to God, when I first moved to Mexico and started attending football games (XOLOS FOREVER) I thought they were yelling "weeeeeeeeeeeey FUTBÓL!" So that's what we yell now.

My license plate used to read T GO ON and no one, NO ONE go it.

Me, too. Fuck.

I'm an excellent flirt but a terrible, terrible winglady. The last time I tried (I believe my exact phrase was "My friend and I are in the country for 11 more hours, so put your fucking skates on.") was so bad my best friend told me I'm never allowed to try to help again.

If you live in a border town like San Diego or plan on visiting Mexico and have a bit of free time, renewing your Costco membership in Mexico will set you back about 400 pesos/30 bucks (at least that's what it cost us) and is valid in the US, too.

I have a very close friend who, now that we're in our mid-30's, STILL talks about how she was Miss Teen Whatever County. She seems to forget she was the only one who entered.

I live on the beach not too far from Guadalupe Island, which has one of the world's highest concentrations of Great Whites, so every time I read one of these articles I'm like "Please don't be near our house...please don't be near our house...YES!!! SUCK IT, AUSTRALIAN/SOUTH AFRICA!!!"

Do you think you could expand what you mean by "counts as something" with your mom not having intercourse until she was 28? I'm not setting you for a troll; I'm just interested.

This totally happened to me. I dodged the bullet then I hit 34 and everyone's getting married and/or having babies. That's okay, I didn't like having money anymore, anyway.

I bet if you let him walk you down the aisle, but make the final approach to the person you're marrying alone, he'd be fine.

I was getting that plus some of Adrian's early works for Joan Crawford. This one is from Dancing Lady in 1933, released just a few months before they started enforcing the Hays Code.

I don't know if this is any motivation or not, but my grandmother's smoked like a chimney since forever and her lungs are just fine. She lived with my wonderful, non-smoking grandfather and had a long, happy marriage until my grandfather —who'd been breathing her smoke for decades— got lung cancer and died. Now she's…

That poor girl's gonna need an eyepatch.

True story: I went the "a raise would be nice" route several years ago and it actually worked. Three days later a several thousand dollar bonus (from a company where people were only eligible for up to a 3% raise per year) arrived on its little fairy wings. The worst they can say is no, and you're going to leave…

Pantsuit Party? Oh I got this.

Let me put in a plug for Nelson Mandela's Favorite African Folktales. There are still a few women-as-prize stories but no blonde Nordic princesses. Get the audiobook if you can, the cast is amazing (CCH Pounder, Helen Mirren, Forest Whitaker, Alan Rickman etc) and it's like, two bucks on audible.

I'm not sure that makes sense. Aside from the various regulations about restaurants/livestock/abattoirs, it takes a certain amount of time to butcher, drain, dress and process even the youngest lamb. A carcass has to hang before you can butcher it properly, and the whole processing uh, process, takes a good deal…

Hmm, I wonder why the I-only-care-about-your-heaaaaaalth concern trolls aren't out in full force? What's that? Rhymes with "She's fot nat?"

You're absolutely right: with most men's shoes (and women's too, but you've got a lot more variance in women's footwear designs) after a certain point you're paying for prestige.

I don't know. My grandfather got married in a pair of bespoke shoes and wore the same shoes —which still looked incredible— to their 60th anniversary party. Like him, I'm a long-game cheapskate so I'd rather spend $500 on a pair of shoes and shell out ten bucks a year (though I rarely have to) to keep them looking…