I get several boxes of candy, give it out until I get tired (or the kid traffic slows down), then I seriously dump EVERYTHING left onto whoever happens to be my “last person.”

2 medium red beets in my green smoothie will turn my piss pink. My brother claims that one tiny concentrated beet drink will have that effect for him (but it does not work for me).

I sent this to my brother who lives in my basement. 33 and he still cannot clean his bathroom—the last time I seriously addressed it with him, he blamed ME because I did not specify what I wanted to see of his bathroom. >_<*

I have a well-paying full-time job, but my hobby is art. This has led me to befriend many amazing starving artists who I meet at conventions. They know I make a lot, but I play off my purchases as,”I forgot how much ___ cost.” (I buy Emergen-C packs, hand sanitizer, and snacks for the group, with someone else usually…

My Trumper Dad refuses to even bring up politics—mostly because he does not want to argue with his liberal daughter. I figure he must be torn because he raised me to be independent, intelligent, and competent—and knows there is no way to defend his choice to my face.

Do you know what types of people use flower-cut sandwiches and cucumbers and bell peppers for a kid’s lunch?!?! Witches and liberals!!!
*cue old conservative twitching and frothing at the mouth*

I almost feel like if this was England in the 1300s, Trump would be marrying Ivanka to preserve the bloodline.

I never wanted kids, but I did have the epiphany that I would let my dogs get away with sooooo much more than a child, but because they are dogs they lack the thumbs needed to really f*** things up. (www.shitmykidsruined.com and its sister site for dogs is the perfect case and point)

I have found, “Shut the f*** up until I finish” works well too. Granted, in my workplace we tend to lob insults at each other unless a tour is in progress.

I would happily settle for a Death Note. A book that belongs to a god of death and if you write someone’s name in it, they will die. If you specify a means of death, it will happen (unless it is grossly unfeasible). If you do not specify a reason, they just drop dead of a heart attack in 3 minutes.

Similar story here--I was hanging out with some friends late at night and I heard footsteps behind me. I stopped, listened to the rapidly approaching footsteps (definitely approaching me), readied my kubotan, wheeled around to attack...and stopped myself with just enough time to avoid striking one of my idiot friends.

Pyrex FTW! I have recently encountered the other problem with plastic containers when several of my roommate’s containers were old enough to start breaking down. It is a icky, irritating mess...and kind of terrifying when you realize that someone likely has ingested some of it.

I have my own mug, but I just use my hands, with the occasional paper towel. I wouldn’t wash anything with our communal sponges--I regularly see the wands poking out of the garbage disposal because the slobs in my workplace cannot even put them away properly.
(...many of my coworkers just pile them up in the sink for…

Given the potential turnout of the upcoming election, this just might be the better option.

Bah, global warming would just bring that baby back out without assistance soon enough. ;-)

Yup, what was she supposed to say? “I feel like I am about to die because I cannot breathe, my body hurts, and everything is suffering and agony.” (At least, that is how I felt when I had pneumonia)

Personally, I tried to explain to my boss why several things he was implementing were going to go wrong, how they were going to go wrong, and how bad of a spot we would end up in. He ignored me (repeatedly), so I quit the additional duty.

Trump/GOP ripping off artists? It’s not like they have a history of that or anything...

Agreed—and many of our sisters fail to wash their hands after using the bathroom.

Seconded. Tampons led to spot bleeding and required a pad/liner anyways (...and don’t even get me started on removing a dry one). The cup was a comedy of errors. Pads are about as easy and straightforward as it gets.