I had a redneck-ish, country family for in-laws as well, but they were really christian so we had decided that there would be no booze at the wedding (I was 18...yeah, regret). His mom actually invited the girl she wanted him to marry to our wedding, and my mother (who was thinking the marriage wasn’t going to last so…

The Nazis gave us Volkswagen, 3D and Fanta. I think the good there outweighs the bad, too.

I’m 5’9” and my daughter is 5’11” (she’s only 15 and I think she grew a smidge recently...or maybe I just feel shorter). We both have long legs. Finding fashionable shorts or skirts for her (and business appropriate for me, but golf course employment FTW!) can be challenging, and I don’t have the funds to get…

I have had my married name (from my ex) longer than my maiden name, and the guy I am most likely going to marry has a similar last name - I only have to change the vowel-consonant-consonat in the middle.

Co-sign. I don’t appreciate her music, but I’ll be goddammned if that girl isn’t making me respect her as a person. Bravo, Miley, brah-vo.

I found a Benetton sweater I got in ‘85 when I was packing my house. I totally kept it. And it, like, totally still fits. Whoo-hoo!

I find it disturbing that Bim Job mandates that his daughters wear their hair the same way Michelle does. Is he fantasizing of having a Michelle at every age? *shudders*

Co-sign.

I just don’t get it. I really don’t. I figured there was a bit of shame from my ex, maybe he was trying to spare me some perceived grief? But tell your kid. Always tell your kid. Because that hurt never goes away.

Kid’s don’t forget this shit. Awful parents are awful.

My ex got married without telling anyone for nearly a year (“for insurance for her”). He didn’t even tell our daughter. I was pissed at the lack of consideration for our her, but otherwise couldn’t have cared less.

Amen to that. I know a shit-ton of people but have, like, no real good female friends.

Dead....or riddled with bullet holes, mute and paralyzed, so that his useless hands could not hold another gun, then left in a facility with angry, underpaid “nurses” who first hand have had assholes like this make their lives hell and are looking for a little daily retribution...

Co-sign!

I went to Hooters. Once. It was there that I learned to salt my napkin to keep my drink from sticking to it.

Sounds like I need a new strain. And a block of time.

I can’t do my nails sober, much less flying high... :-/

Didn’t her formal education stop at about that age?

Yes, it can be done! And it is totally scary.