I really liked yours! I mean, it didn’t hurt that I can totally relate to it because wow, am I awkward at sexting. Dirty talk I can do, because I get carried away in the moment, but sexting? I’m probably gazing at a spot on the rug thinking about how I should get rug cleaner or running through tomorrow’s work list in…

They are so, so scared to admit that women do just fine (and sometimes way better) than men/without men.

I mean, in my mind that’s exactly what happened.

If it walks like a weenus and talks like a weenus...

OOH! I have one! I was staying with my friend at her boyfriend’s family’s house on Shelter Island one weekend. We were hanging out by the pool one night, and BILLY JOEL and a bunch of his friends jumped over the wall and invited themselves to swim. He was such an arrogant asshole, and was saying overtly sexual things…

Yeah, but where is the road out, tho?

I don’t mean to alarm anyone, but it appears as though SJP’s hair is on fire.

Yes indeed. I just love the whole “Save the babies, they are tiny gifts from God!” rhetoric, especially when paired with a nice side of, “Well that’s the consequence of having sex outside of marriage you dirty whore!”

What the fuck is wrong with you please?

I dunno. There was someone on the comments here the other day saying that anti-choicers rilly rilly sincerely believe that those cells are babies, and that talking about their position as anti-sex misses the point. They basically said that this argument is one of the reasons the two sides can’t find common ground.

Oh, this makes total sense! They’re not fetuses anymore, let them fend for themselves.

Get the fuck outta here with your artificial womb fetish. You know damn well that would still mean women had to undergo a fucking surgical procedure to remove the cells, and I know you don’t like it, but we still get to control what happens to our bodies. If you don’t fucking like it, keep it in your pants.

He leaves them out in hopes of luring Marco Rubio onto his ticket.

Me? I love using kids as a diversion to avoid romance. They fit into that scapegoat mold like a glove.

I could also live with being branded a disturber of the public.

...except one.

AAAAAHHHH THANK YOU!

New life goal: Be officially branded a hooligan.

Unless their new slogan is “Keep it in your pants,” I’m not interested. If I wanted something that would squeeze my organs and cling to me, I’d still be married.