We essentially had a fight the previous day. I walked in on her cutting her toenails on my bed which is, as Tommy Haverford would say, “an oh-no-no.”

I was in a similar situation once in college - my roommate locked me out two nights in a row during finals week. I mean, there wasn’t a gold medal on the line, and she wasn’t hooking up (rather, she was a pretty rigid evangelical who thought holding hands was “too fresh”), but I immediately narced her out to the RA.

I much prefer “love and light,” as it passive-aggressively conveys my connection to the cosmos while the other person is just human garbage.

“What’s with the music?!? C’mere, whippersnapper, and let me tell you about a time - a simpler time, perhaps a better time,,,,”

Barb got boned, and also the audience got boned, because I cannot find the score to “Stranger Things” and I need more spooky ‘80's electronic music in my life (and in my running playlist).

I have a shame-crush on him. I HATE “Family Guy” and therefore hate his voice, but he loves Carl Sagan and worked hard to get “Cosmos” made and donated Carl’s papers, so I feel like if he didn’t say a word, it’d be okay?

As I said on a previous thread, she was an asshole when she was Bruce, and she’s an asshole now that she’s Caitlyn. Transgender doesn’t equal personality change.

Yeah, he has no problem explaining the Ed Gein-like creature that comes in the night to collect their discarded teeth in exchange for money, but men kissing men and ladies kissing ladies is too complicated.

Caitlyn is proof that one’s asshole behavior transcends gender identity/sex assignment. She was a garbage human when she was Bruce, and she’s a garbage human now.

Alas, it was Sir Anthony Hopkins.

D.A.R.E. scared me away from drugs in such a way that I was shocked - SHOCKED! - when a doctor prescribed me a cocktail that included barbiturates. I actually called them “yellow jackets,” as the D.A.R.E. ruler that I got in the third grade had measurements on one side and street terms for drugs on the other.

Rog says that the guy got all stirred up by their Islamic sorcery. It wasn’t his fault!

No, he looked like Elvis if Elvis had a slightly fuller face and had lived to be a bitter racist old man.

I’ve told this story before, but after my mom died, in a haze of grief, I went and saw a psychic. She got a message from “an older man” who was my grandfather. He was “happy and dancing” in the afterlife. She also drew a picture of the spirit who was talking to her so that I could confirm it was Grampa Ted.

“I’m getting a feeling from the Other Side.....a motherly influence. She wants.....wants to sniff your crotch. Oh my god, it’s my mom! What’s that mom? Who’s a good boy? I’m a good boy!”

My county’s Democrat org is filled with crusty old folks. They manage to make it through the day without saying the “n” word. In fact, they are quite delightful in their ongoing attempt to understand and be respectful of things “not from their generation.”

<Runs up to you as you board the craft>

“Don’t get on that ship! It’s a cookbook!!1!”

My mother’s side of the family is Italian-American and we had our family reunion this weekend. My husband, who had limited interaction with them (as do I, for reasons you outlined), noted that when lunch is served, all the men stampede to the buffet line, women and children be damned.

“Don’t you think that’s weird?”…

There’s also plenty of purebreds in breed-specific rescues. We have always adopted from a private rescue (they sweep up all the giant breeds from surround shelters and rehab them). Two Newfoundlands, a Saint Bernard, and one giant mix later.

I love my pound hound! He’s got the best of many breeds - the webbed toes and big beaver tail of a Newfoundland, the energy of a lab, the sentry nature of a doberman, and the smarts of a border collie.