Seriously, whenever I need to see the derm, I always, always, always tell them I'm curious about Botox. I get in within a week, and they never begrudge me playing the system. In fact, my doc will peer at my eyes and say "not yet," and then get down to business.

@howdybeep (runs with monkey wrenches): And yeah, I am going to be that mom. The mom who boycotts Gymboree and drinks wine and refuses to put any cutesie, kiddie covers of Cure songs in the Odessey, but instead lets the kid actually hear the Cure.

I'm personally going to go with the Target private lable brand of baby shampoo, because I am cheap like that.

(This might triple post, but hell)

And that shall be the template for my own daughter. Yep.

I live in fear that I will develop a full-blown case of the wandering syndrome my mom has. She once held up a flight for forty-five minutes, because she wandered away from the line to board the plane. She's a completely lucid lady, with no known ADHD — she just wanders.

@SomnambulantHobbit: Gotcha covered there. I'm sleepy, clumsy AND I'd have to pull on a pair of those hellish recession heels to block your view.

Now I wonder how I ever managed to gain admission into Duke.

Have fun at Gawker, Moe.

If you're that desperate not to bone me, please just break up with me already. I'll understand.

My mom is going to be crushed when she hears the news. She thought Johnny was going to be the next Bobby Kennedy.

@BeckySharper: Are you saying she might have to go out amongst the plebs and work?

Marriage is the radical notion that there is a life after the wedding.

So, judging from that last line, the jilted bride in question is a spoiled four-year-old, yeah?

@TinyK: And he'll run without a shirt in order to be closer to his people/his dead other brother/his culture/his box office revenue.

@Meg: Not so much about calling a breakup, but when the Dude and I outlast another celebrity marriage, there are high-fives all the way around.

I lived the Liz Lemon Cleveland experience. True story.

I signed things on my first day stating I'd never talk about my place of employment on the intarwebs (and my CEO has Gawker comment privvies). But right now, everything's in neat, straight lines on my desk.

Is this the same competition that the lovely larger Miss Surrey (was it?) is competing in?

Every time I go to Target, I pass by the rows of little girl-sized ruby slippers and I am seized with jealousy. I want a pair of red, sparkly shoes!