Damn those people. I wanted a visible trainwreck!

I have a friend who does this now. I truly believe she has an undiagnosed mental illness and she’s self medicating with alcohol. There is cheating and lying and so many issues. I’ve taken a BIG step back from her IRL but her FB is still filled with all the same kind of stuff. The other day she posted a meme about…

OK, for whatever reason this article was reposted on Facebook today and I came across your comment. It’s been two years.

It’s as Ann as the nose on Plain’s face!

Blen? BLEN!??! That’s not a name! That’s a major appliance, not a name!

The voters have no patience for yet another example of our do-nothing Congress. In fact their refusal to confirm anyone may actually help the Democrats pick up some seats in November. The ads write themselves.

No, I doubt it. The people who are voting for Trump aren’t generally going to take political opinion or advice from Stewart. He’s dismissed among hard line conservatives.

I knew that somehow, someday my lack of Full House knowledge would screw me.

I’m glad this is an option because I’m sure it helps some with voter turn out -but I would be so sad if my state (Ohio) moved to this. I bring my kids with me to vote and even have one of them push the buttons for me. It’s the best way I know to show them how important voting is. It’s a favorite day of mine! I even…

I am so jealous! Saw her show in Cleveland a couple weeks ago and I lurve her so much!

I’m so late the game here but...

My god. My mother in law does this and it’s creepy and horrible and weird.

I heard an interview with Mayor Weaver on NPR back in January and she was very impressive.

One of my FB friends, who I’ve always had respect for, posted this and was like “Yeah! Get rid of the angry black woman!” And that was that. Respect gone in a poof. Unfollowed.

According to my (WASPy) father - if you’re on time, you’re 10 minutes late. I had that absolutely drilled into me and I have an irrational rage when people are late. Drives me bonkers.

Herb Ritts was the photographer. I just saw this photo in the new exhibit at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.

I named my son Michael. Michael is his name - not Mike or Mikey. He goes by Michael. The only people who get a pass on this are the great-grandparents. I figure they get a pass - they’ve earned it. Until he decides he wants to be called by a shortened name or nickname he’s going to be Michael.

The more nuanced among us remember Nanny G.

I’ll be 40 in a month and have 3 kids. No way in hell I feel like an adult most of the time.

That shit is bananas.