“It is elementary, my dear Inspector; Netflix will make the money, and the Doyle estate would very much like to take that money.”

What a fucking hellscape this timeline is

It’s absolutely not your fucking job, you delusional piece of shit. Apparently he used to work as a life guard at the local Y, but even if that’s what he’s referring to, life guards tend to not carry AR-15s as part of the job.

I fully expect them to start saying that if it weren’t for people’s overly vulnerable internal organs and their lack of an armored exoskeleton they wouldn’t have died from bullets that traveled through their vicinity.

A psychopath would totally forge ahead like this guy is doing.

Even his website seems to be filled with misdirection and bullshit:

fuck this kid

I still say Pence has a basement full of skinsuits, feather boas, and Goodbye Horses on permanent replay.

Just waiting for the eventual scandal between the Pences and their “pool boy” to publicly erupt like the Falwells’. Plot twist is that their pool boy is Black, and that Pence is a bossy bottom for both the other guy and Mother, who pegs him. Seeing them squirm when this comes to light will be epic. Mother’s new wig…

I can’t afford pearls to clutch, but I found an old couch on Craigslist that is perfect for fainting.

This is so fucking rich. SO. RICH.

In somewhat unrelated notes, I had my first public facing day back at work sort of that was cut short by my boyfriend calling saying he couldn’t feel his hands, was going to faint, thought he was having a heart attack and I needed to come home.

A family on my block got evicted this past week. Young couple with a toddler. The neighbors took up a collection and we were able to to give them almost $300. People offered to store some of their stuff in garages till they can figure something out. Others put together a food box. We all were pretty much…

I only had one showing on my house this week but they put in an offer. It was on the low side so I countered with as is, no squeezing more dimes out post inspection. Waiting to hear. I think the realtor wishes I would hold out for more but I wanna get the fuck out of here.

I did that to a troll once!

I’ll enter this into evidence.

My mom has Alzheimer’s, pretty far along, so over the past few years I’ve gotten pretty good at identifying tiny threads in an otherwise nonsensical conversation and putting together a somewhat coherent best-guess topic. Something like this is her on a bad day.

Awww, I’m glad my long ago camping adventures won!

This is one thing I look forward to as a parent: getting the call from school, going to the principal’s office, and getting to ask, “And what precipitated My Child’s reaction?”

That sounds excessively cruel. To the sharks. I mean, you wouldn’t want to feed them a sack of cheap wool stuffed with lard, uppers, bullshit, and orange dye.