I like a mansion as much as the next person, but I also entertain. If I pulled into this driveway, all I’d see are garage doors. A front door is the whole thing! And backing onto a golf course?! Where am I supposed to do my naked time? Just around the pool?!! This architectural conglomerate makes me sad, just like…

I lived alone after college. I was desperately lonely with a really great cat. Like, the greatest cat ever. He greeted me when I got home and slept beside me every night. All the while, I craved—I fucking craved—a partner/lover. After several years, my husband appeared. (Over a decade later, he delights me.)

She has become unwatchable. That book club movie was an abomination. I gag on her Schlick. Her schtick is what my cats barf up: that twitchy slippery schlich schlargch is what wakes me up in the night.

I once told a new boyfriend I liked beards. When he, my husband, shaved it over vacation as a joke, I did not laugh. Reader, I remained married to him. 

Seriously, I’ve been on 10+ day low capacity/intimate luxury trips through half of Europe for a fraction of three days of partial Canada by rail. Multiple countries and cities in Europe vs. a glossing of two lakes in Canada. 

Meanwhile, the disappearance of 12 Miles of Bad Road from HBO in the oughts still haunts me. 

Hey, Che-ya later! Ironically of course. I’d be fine never Che-ing him again. 

Lol, I’ve spent months pondering why I just can’t with this kid. This video helps me resolve those issues.

The one time this happened to me, I took it to the Bethesda Mission.

My upper lip is blonde, but exceptionally hairy. I only pluck in once the hair on my top lip tickles my lower face. Something stuck in the old soup strainer! My husband strokes it like a caterpillar. 

Secretly, I equate her with Donald Trump. Unpleasant and narcissistic. I never saw a second of the You’re Fired Show, but I watched Girls because the cast was primarily women. Plus, it was HBO (supposedly prestige) and not NBC. The only difference is Trump somehow tricked masses of idiots to vote for him and Lena…

I, too, am very much looking forward to lab-meat. And in time, our renewable, sustainable energy future will deliver us. (This sounds like sarcasm, but it’s how I put myself to sleep at night. Otherwise, humanity would be the death of me.)

My response to this post is an unironic, I love an HEA. 

I am 40 now. I am a democrat. Or rather a democratic socialist. I remember shopping in the store, aged eight, with a parent, and wondering why people who couldn’t afford bananas weren’t just given bananas and grapes and apples. If they couldn’t afford them! I had friends with two moms and two dads and five cars and…

Organic fabrics included? Could you please be more specific about the chemicals required to rent and degum. Those fabrics are the ones I like especially. 

I’ve actually thought about this a lot. I want my face, extremities, and bathing suit areas to be swathed in silk. (I could never find my size in la perla. I’m tempted to stuff a bunch of their panties down my last diaper, but at that point, who has the time or energy?) Then linen for my whole body, stitched shut with…

I insisted it happened for years and my mother told me all the while I was too sensitive. I no longer talk to my family. Nothing happened to him.  

I fear I’m woefully blind to the heightof fashion, because I can’t help but wonder why his tie and coat and vest and pants were all different shades of blue. If all different shades of color in a man’s suit is right, then I love that the mister wears what I request—and matches something or other.

I love emeralds. I married in emeralds! I wish the center stone weren’t so large...and central. If there were a more complicated, deflecting, arrangement around it, I’d like it much more. This emerald, central and alone, appeared as if a third eye.

(Yes. I was thinking to myself that her neck was vanished somehow. But it was just her shoulders bearing the weight of that fabric.)