I totally shed a tear.
I totally shed a tear.
If there would be a time for Hillary to have an anger translator, tonight would probably be the time.
I would volunteer to be her anger translator for the next four years. HeWhoWouldBeVulcan can live without me for a bit.
I just need to be able to take my Goldendoodle with me.
The shade in that stare lowers the temperature in the surrounding area by at least 20 degrees.
Ughhhh.... I need Pepto....
She’s channeling some Vulcan control.
Are you me? I ask because I could have written that word-for-word. Should she win (and I say “should,” because we know how fucked up this country is), I’ll weep with unbridled joy.
2016 has been the year of the double facepalm.
I actually looked this up and then spent five minutes trying it. (I made the last one. I’m cool like that.)
Barefoot?
Six years old... goddammit.
Some days, it takes a lot to find hope in this world.
That little robe still kills me with the adorable. I think he had on little slippers, too.
My uterus flipped at the sight.
Aww, he’s already got his little royal wave down.
I just think it interesting (in a bad way) that a military tasked with defending this country and the Constitution (8th amendment) would resort to this sort of punishment.
So “cruel and unusual” doesn’t apply to the military?
Said it before I could. Military prisons (well, prisons, in general) are effed up in soooo many ways.
Someone should start selling these. So many Republicans would buy them.
Trump is a crooked bastard. And, in other news, water is wet.
It fills me with joy to see Stephen Lang get the lusty kudos he deserves. Damn. Damn! Damn, again!