Lucy Worsley tweeted that The Sun reported this as:

I love reading old reminders that our ancestors were just as horny as we are. Recently I learned about the Secret History by Procopious, which was written in the 6th century and is full of some outrageous slander about Theodora, Emperor Justinian’s wife. He basically writes a whole thing about how much of a slut she…

So about an hour ago I was running on the lovely canal trail in my city. It’s cold and sunny, a perfect day to run off the angst of the last two weeks. I’m waiting to cross the main four lane street when I see a bunch of vehicles with lights and sirens coming towards the intersection. I thought it was a funeral but…

I really appreciate that moving sidewalks got what appears to be top billing in their “world of tomorrow” mural.

I understand the point they’re trying to make, but I’d be surprised if Rolling Stone hasn’t published a woman’s nipples at some point in the last 50 years. That would mean they never ran this gorgeous shot of Janis Joplin.

I feel no pity for this woman. Not once in the chat log was there anything alluding to rape, just the song. The rape portion of the song wasn’t even what they were joking about. The guy apologized MULTIPLE times, and yet she still felt the need to email Tim Cook (who by the way won’t read this petty crap anyways…

This is the best email conversation. Almost as good as the unhinged sorority emails from two years ago (but not really, those will always be THE ALL TIME BEST).

Ha! I was adjusting invisible rabbit ears.

It gets very surreal after 2 or 3.

I think it’s wonderfully optimistic that you think he’ll feel shame over this.

Mandated reporter here...it never hurts to report if you have genuine concerns. Let the authorities sort it out. You never know if your report will be the 3rd, or the 4th, or whichever one will be the one that triggers action (sadly, sometimes it takes multiple reports, especially in 'mild' situations)!

Victorville? STORY CHECKS OUT.

While cleaning my bedroom as a kid, I used to imagine Jerry Orbach and Chris Noth on Law & Order looking around my room and cracking one-liners while they looked for clues to my murder. It was more fun and less morbid than it sounds.

This is my favorite thing ever because I also live my life mentally scoring every thing that happens to me.

For the eventual closing segment of my life in America, I want this song playing as I head to the airport to go home.

Is this for real? This has to be a joke, right? WTF did I just read?

Nearly spot-on skin-colored tights.