FINALLY! We need to hear more from fancy boy kings. This saggy witch, for one, cannot function without the direction and approval of a fancy boy king. All day long, my thoughts (dim as they are) can be absolutely consumed with fancy boy kings. Does he have an opinion? What is it? I NEED TO KNOWWWWWW.

Her daughter shall be called Kristan—a piece of both parents’ name, “K” alliteration tradition, and norm-core enough to be newsworthy.

And what about Secret Bangs?

I will NEVER think about New York City. Again: How. Dare. You.

Every once in a while, something happens at Jezebel that makes me realize that you are not my people. The occasional tone-deaf article or commentariat drama is irritating—but people make mistakes. You move on.

The world actually did end in 2012 as predicted by the Mayans. Since then, we’ve been living in a strange purgatory where things become increasingly more ludicrous. One day we will hit a breaking point and wake up to a new world, a new consciousness.

Don’t stir the shit, Rob.

You know that the apocalypse was probably caused by the 2010 Jezebel March Madness—Cake versus Pie. The winner was cheesecake—from the fucking “Pie” category.

Hubert is like saying “ew-BEAR” but slightly bored and/or on xanax. Warm up to say Givenchy by saying Zsa Zsa Gabor. Then it’s like “Zsee-von-SHE.”

My real question is if I can skip The Defenders (hating it) and move right on to Jessica Jones Season 2 without missing anything.

From Tiffany, I always get a little Cat Marnell speaking to me.