Try to watch this without screaming "I LOVE YOU, LAVERNE. PLEASE LET ME BE YOUR BEST FRIEND AND PLAY BARBIES WITH ME AND TALK SHIT ABOUT HOW MY BARBIES ARE TACKY AND DRESS LIKE SAD REJECTED REAL HOUSEVWIVES CAST MEMBERS." Just give it a try.

Your geometry teacher's work is done.

This comment needs a "stupid disclaimer."

OMG. I didn't want to play the video because I get squicked out too easily, and I looked at the picture and, I was really confused. Like, I didn't get what happened. The minutes later I realized HIS FOOT IS OVER THERE. OH. MY. GOD.

I didn't see the dog shit once.

Jezebel should pay to see the unphotoshopped photos.

The entire city of Cleveland sounds like an abused girlfriend.

Are we really defending LeBron's bitch ass pussy whiny shitfest?

Nothing about sky law?

If you don't see Franco Beans, it's not nude.

That was just sad, man, like, really, really sad.

Oh, good. So I'm right? I was genuinely confused.

I though basic meant like an unrefined dumb ass? Am I wrong?

You read about some white girl's relationship with her smoothie.

So what? A male rapper can't cry?

Why equate Chelsea to having balls? Why use a male-related descriptor to describe her hutzpah. Can't she just have hutzpah as a woman? How does this move feminism forward?

No one gets made a CEO of an international corporation for the sake of having a female or minority CEO. Jesus Christ, give the woman some credit.

Why not "Breasts for the Cure?" It seems like a missed opportunity.

Also, you know the school I chose NOT to go to despite getting in? Yale, because everything they sent me had the word "hispanic" on it. I didn't want to get into college because of my race. I wanted to get in because I felt like I earned it.

Actually, I was calling homegirl up there a honkey. I had really high SAT and ACT scores, and I think I got, like, the highest score you can get on the SAT writing. I was a sophmore my second semester because of all the AP tests I took. I had plenty of extracurriculars. Outstanding recommendations, blah, blah, blah. I…