The feature-not-a-bug idea is explored in the Ta-Nehisi Coates book that’s out now, selling like crazy and winning awards. I never looked at it that way, but boy howdy, it resonates with me.

I’m a manager and a person with ladyparts. When our receptionist needed somebody to cover phones one day, she asked me. I told her no, I had way more seniority than all the dudes hired after me, and to ask them. I told her coming to me was totally sexist. She agreed. ...And nobody covered phones that day — the night…

I wonder if they instead wore the same outfit everyday if viewers might just forget about it, like Hillary and her 2008 pantsuits?

For the past few years, my illnesses have magically appeared on Friday afternoons, left me bedridden all weekend, and magically disappeared on Monday mornings. Which, I gotta say, pisses me right the hell off. Why can’t I catch a bug on a Tuesday?!

It must be true: I hate kids; I hate Subway. That’s just science.

Mick sings the backing vocals. If it’s him, he’s in on the joke.

I was at a Bourdain book signing a few years ago; he’d come around to the Ina’s-a-good-cook camp. Still had some snark for Jeffrey, though.

I love him so much. I consider myself lucky I got to live through his POTUS-hood.

Unless you and your boss have a friendship/love affair outside the office, I’m a firm believer in No Gifts for Boss. Gifts go <i>down</i> the corporate hierarchy, not up. Even milestone gifts (marriage, new baby, retirement) should be shouldered by the company, not its employees.

On the other hand, it’s not like a normal soup bowl is deep. I mean, you can’t even lose your spoon in one!

We taught my sister’s lab to jump off a dock into the lake, which took her about a half hour to overcome her nerves. Afterwards, whenever we threw something for her to retrieve, she’d jump in, swim to it, and the minute her mouth closed around it, her tail would shoot straight up, like a ref signaling a goal. Then…

Yeah, but lots of people (often women) are so repressed or ignorant or shy or unwilling to look/feel like a slut that even admitting you want a gander at the goods is too transgressive to consider. Plus, if the partner is the least bit good at manipulation and gaslighting, it’s not that hard to imagine.

I’m totally picturing her writing the conclusion while drinking wine and snort-laughing. I bet she cracks herself up all the time.

It’s very English, however. The Brits hate talking about what one earns more than absolutely anything.

I saw my first in-the-wild Tesla yesterday, and it struck me how much the logo looks like an IUD. I’m pretty sure that’s unintended, but I think it’s great.

If we take her at her word, she refused a lot of work that wasn’t paying her, so yeah, her star fell. But she was integral to the success of Casino, was the reason Sliver got made (which made some money, awful as it was). The Specialist and Antz did well too.

But it’s less that a woman is paid “only” millions to a man’s tens of millions — if the woman is the reason ticket buyers are ponying up, she should be compensated to reflect that. In her day, Sharon Stone’s a name brand— she’s the reason a movie gets greenlit in the first place. Pay her the damn money.

It’s Mark Geragos. So, yeah. He’s all about the soundbite.

Stop it! I’m leaking here!

My one and only LC purchase got my credit card hacked. Nearly a grand spent before I caught it (in a couple of days!). Of course I didn’t have to eat it, but that’s the last time I shop them. (Plus, the lip color I bought feathered like a mofo. Yuck.)