I was dared to suck a shot of vodka out of an unused tampon.
On the bright side, it did a damn fine job of breaking the ice at that party.

His injured ankle still has more verifiable documentation than Trump’s bone spurs.

...Dad???

I once dressed as a clown and spent a few hours handing out flowers to people. Never frightened anyone, partly because I kept the makeup sad; mostly because I kept handing them to men and calling them beautiful ladies.

But Ted Cruz is still the Zodiac Killer, right? Don’t destroy all my beliefs today.

A few commenters on other blogs I read have taken to addressing Eric & Donald Jr by those names.

Trump will gold-plate all the vegetables, smoke all the herbs, and send Uday and Qusay to hunt any small animals oh goddammit is the election over yet?

From the cinematic masterpiece, Porky’s:

No he didn’t!

Are all your Horsemen called Eric?

...well, there are a great deal of improvisers in this city...

...do they have to be my own organs?

This needs to happen. Now. Yesterday. How many organs must I sell?

*insert your own “golden showers” joke here*

He’d be checking the bump on Kim’s head, if it weren’t indistinguishable from all the other surgery.

It’s the rain that hurts the most. Working outside in cold rain is the worst part of walking dogs.

Quite reasonable. I’ve used my cat as a sounding board; all it gets me is glares of judgement.

Jesus. With the added ceremony of shaving off the beard at midnight to unobserve Movember.

Trying to remember—it was either on a British pop culture site or a stateside LGBTQ-centric news blog. I swear I’m not making it up, though.

I’ve seen a few that refer to her as Hillary Clinton’s daughter that no one wants you to know about.