I used to save them for my daughter to use as tables for her Polly Pockets. Now she’s in high school, so I just kind of play with them myself until it’s time to throw out the pizza box.

Yup.

I do believe in God; I don’t get this, either.

Make sure you bring a teenage boy. Then it’s just a youthful indiscretion.

I’ve actually had a stroke. If this happened to me, I’d just assume I was having another.

Nah. They’re herbivores. They just bit him death, then scurried over his still-warm corpse looking for fresh victims.

Time has not been kind to him.

Right. If it’s pork, someone had better tell every kosher deli I’ve ever eaten in.

God dammit, G&T, there goes my budget. Must acquire more notebooks!

I’d be happy to wear men’s dress shoes. No one was wearing sneakers, Mr. False Equivalency, if that is your real name.

Yup. I am an old. And she is stunning no matter what’s on her feet.

With my back issues, the only way I could wear heels would be if I used a wheelchair. I can. not. wear. heels.

I’m flashing back to my mom drying my hair in the 70s. Pulling hard at the tangles in my very thick hair and using the hairdryer set on “broil”. When I cried, she would tell me I had to “suffer for beauty”. I have a pixie cut now.

It’s a short joke.

I cannot walk in flats due to a back problem. I guess it’s a good thing I’m not at Cannes.

I’m always taken aback when I stumble upon one of my redneck cousins’ racist jokes on FB. I’m always just, seriously? You’re not only comfortable with thinking that but with saying it in public? Really? But we’re in very different circles.

Exactly. Toasting is what you do to make stale bagels edible. And if they’re really stale? Croutons. (Seriously, stale everything bagels, cubed and sauteed in olive oil, make phenomenal croutons.)

I would pay money to have witnessed that.

I’d eat them, but only abashedly. And that pizza up there looks pretty good to me.

I was just going to say Wawa. I miss them. I have to visit PA soon.