As a Christmas gift, my parents went ahead and did my big cleaning project of the year. I've got one more room to go and my house will be entirely useable space instead of a vacation resort for that garbage pile lady from Labyrinth.

Y'all be careful. I did this in '98 and now I all get is the occasional semi-moist June. Semojune. And now I really wish I'd not written that out.

How Grave Was My Volley

That's it: "coffin tapper" is my new career. Perfectly mixes the current fascination for all things morbid, with a hint of delicate skill.

It delights me to no end when women wearing fabulous high heels admit that their feet hurt. It's not that I want them to be in pain, but it makes me feel like less of a wimp for complaining about it myself.

FREE STEAK, YOU SAY?

"They took almost 100 women between the ages of 18 and 30 and divided them into three groups to look at two different sets of images."

The suffixes "-ageddon" and "-pocalypse"

Is this a real person? Is it trick photography or what's going on? How can her ass be as high as Miley's neck?

My EXACT thoughts on this piece and others West writes that are similar. I hope that with all the posts like yours, and by people writing "agree" posts and recommending these comments, a sense of awareness will start to kick in at some point. It's just sick really. I don't doubt fat-shaming exists—outright or not. But…

I couldn't agree with you more. The writing is so amazingly lazy and if I have to see one more title with that "because" thing in it, or "your BFF" or "Best ____ Ever" of any of the other uninspired tween speak I'm going to tear my eyeballs out. This article suffers from the same thing I see teaching the arts at a…

Except Jezebel would no longer accept them. The old Jezebel would have. It used to have a great variety of voices and opinions. Now it has a stultifying conformity and the business with the comments and the grays has fucked up any reading of vigorous arguments too.

I don't care; there is no category of person I want sitting next to me on a plane unless they are a very small woman, with no hand luggage who is frightened of me. I give everyone a mean, mumbly look when they sit next to me. I have never used an armrest either because I dont want to fight someone for it and I…

It's jaw-dropping that someone who spends time insisting the stereotype of her generation as acting "entitled" is just dead wrong would act this... well... entitled.

Totally agreed. You kicked him while he was sleeping? I'm pretty sure he was just as annoyed to be there as you, the only difference is you're the only one who actually cemented your status as the ass in the story. And then to write about it like "look what an asshole his guy was to me because I'm fat!" You know what…

Sorry Lindy, love ya to bits, but you sound super-duper immature and passive aggressive and like YOU were the one late for the plane, hungover, and getting to your seat after everyone else had sat down. I don't care if you weight 65 pounds soaking wet, all THAT is annoying.

for just a second I thought this was a World War Z zombie rush lamp...that would have been an instant sale...

:C
Just reading the title of this post made me want to throw out every kitchen appliance I own that has small parts or a hard-to-clean interior.

The only thing more fun than a "Sleepunder" is an"Unmovie Night" where its actually daytime and instead of watching movies everybody has to help clean the garage.

I feel like anyone advocating not washing an article of clothing does not live and has never lived in Florida, where clothing items get brutally disgusting after one or, at most, two wearings.