I'm sorry, I thought I was at Jezebel, where Worst Human Being Alive is more likely to be applied to an actual monster of a human being, say Ariel Castro. Instead, I see we are supposed to revile a woman for acknowledging and taking pleasure in her financial successes after many years in her industry. It's like…

As long as she shows up in my reoccurring sex dreams on time, I'm okay with this. Because I would never, ever pay to see her live. Ever.

Yeah, I always saw that getting the arched-back-and-coy-lashes pose (and oh my god, your make-up!) to perfection has little and less to do with enticing guys and more to do with inspiring admiration and envy amongst your lady peers.

Ugh, sucks. Although marginally better than my good friend who is the lone female in the mechanical engineering department, she said several of her classmates outright assumed that she would be cool with handing over her homework and helping them cheat on tests because (as she said), you know those Asian chicks, so…

Oh, shit. What did Taye say that will destroy my ability to enjoy sex dreams involving him? (Already know about Terence, who just leaves me with icky feelings every time I see his picture.)

Well, I was supposed to go to a bar for social obligations, but am now trying to find PBS because if I can analyze historical origins of ASoIaF/GoT (or hell, anything related), my time is clearly much better spent on the latter. Happy Saturday to you, madam!

Seriously. I can't believe that glaring omission was made. GIVE THAT SHIT BACK.

I would never deny that the fashion industry is serious in respect to the sheer amount of money it generates and jobs that it provides, absolutely. Just when the visible faces are people that are so incredibly out of touch like, say, Karl Lagerfeld or Anna Wintour, it's hard not to laugh. But then again, where would…

I watched this several times in a row yesterday, THANK YOU.

I liked Huntsman too, but so not the point of the story.

At least older Buddhas were found behind these ones. Not that it excuses such fuckery, but yay silver linings?

Fuckin' magic.

My dear, fashion is not fun. It is art and, above all else, to be taken seriously.

I hate the pink jerseys that professional sports have the gall to offer to us lady fans, but I would wear the shit out of some appropriately themed high fashion.

Please enlighten me on what a "douche tiara" is, I'm really excited in an anthrobrological kind of a way.

It is. You were like the forbidden fruit of friendship to us poor brainwashed kids who were terrified into believing in hell and genuinely worried that the people we cared about faced eternal torment, even if we weren't the weekly volunteers to go stand on the corner handing out Bibles with the rest of the youth group.

I do remember jumping when all of that went down and yelling "Holy shit!" (I remember because my mom was too busy shrieking to ignore my cursing.) I can totally see how that exact moment could stick with you every time you tried to go to sleep for awhile.

First dude I had sex with had the shittiest, most prison quality tattoos I have ever seen with the crowning jewel being "Pennywise" was across his shoulder blades with what may have supposed to have been a peace sign, but I don't know, it was terribly blurry. First boyfriend had a trio of monkeys tattooed riiiiight…

No freaking thank you.

Trademark veiny and curving to the right? I'm a big fan of your work, especially after stepping into the unrelenting sunshine at 10am after a somewhat shameful trip to Total Wine.