I’ll be honest: I have no idea who Tracee Ellis Ross is (Diana’s daughter?), but she is obviously living the best life.

And once again, Cher is asking all the right all-caps questions. Can she be a debate moderator? I want her to call out the stupid to their faces.

See, that would be a sound economic practice for them. Lots of places do that. But... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Yeah, she’s a fucking whackadoo sadistic asshole. The money was just the cherry on top.

So she imprisoned, beat, starved, and generally tortured ten people for the equivalent of ~$20,000 a year? Jesus fucking Christ, you can take your fourth grade education, get a job at McDonald’s, and make more money*, and *not* be one of the worst people on the planet.

*Well, depending on local minimum wage laws, hours…

Those wanton six-year old harlots, leading good Christian men into temptation with their slutty little Hello Kitty shirts.

I’ve got the matches; we’ll go halfsies on the gasoline?

Yeah, you can tell that marriage is either headed for divorce. At least, I hope the guy would be quicker to pull the trigger on divorce—otherwise, he’s looking at decades of misery.

Honestly, I think she has a black pair, a beige pair, and a white pair, all the same style. And I kind of respect that—simple, classic, no fuss. Save the fuss for the hats.

The Queen Mum was the best. Hitler called her “The Most Dangerous Woman in Europe.” Taking down Nazis with her stiff upper lip!

Forget the Crown Jewels—I’m breaking into a museum to steal those first two dresses (the third is lovely, but I don’t think it’ll work with my boobs).

Anne’s kids turned out alright, too (Zara’s an Olympic showjumper*, and I think Peter’s a banker). And Edward’s kids are still young. Andrew and his branch will hopefully turn out to be the black sheep.

*Okay, yeah, so that’s a “job,” but it is something she has to put a lot of time and effort into.

Haven’t you always felt like potatoes are the lovable oafs of the plant world? I basically think of them as the vegetable version of Mongo from Blazing Saddles.

Is it weird that I want to be her earring so that I could touch her shoulder? It seems reasonable to me.

It means you’re too awesome for Mr. No-Fun McLoser. Bullet dodged!

Ugh, I KNOW. She was the best of the bunch.

Aw, hell nope nope nope.

The only other option is to go the Misty Day route.

Congratulations and sympathies. Fingers crossed things ease up soon.

Best. Ghosts. Ever.

That’s essentially the same argument as MRAs who want to reduce women to walking uteruses. As awesome (and smelly) as my pussy is, Ms. Greer, there is a lot more to my womanhood than that. And to the womanhood of my trans woman friends (some of whom do, in fact, have vaginas).