Chris Meloni is the Proto Chris. Has he ever not been sexy? 

If anyone had cause to go snooping, it’s Bey.

Wasn’t that the plot of Grosse Pointe Blank?

“In the future everyone will be world-famous for fifteen minutes.”

The best part is they are literally missing the whole point of the video:

I LOL’d when I saw those Chick-Fil-A shoes. That is camp like a drag queen waving from the sunroof of a gold-wrapped donk.

I’ve always firmly believed that if your faith is easily threatened by a moment in pop culture, then your faith was never a strong faith to begin with. 

All these prim fuckers just out there looking to get offended. I would know nothing about these shoes if not for the multiple headlines this morning about this specific beef.

Omg its so good:

I wore a dark green velvet Jessica McClintock sheath dress with an elaborate lace neckline to a winter formal at my HS in 1992. The lace was slightly different than this, but I really loved that dress.

Early gen-Xer here who wore a simple strapless McClintock to prom. I loved that dress, though honestly it did nothing for me. The color wasn’t great for me, etc. She sure knew how to dominate the prom section.

Exactly. It’s gibberish and weird and it made me laugh. The Spelling\Seacrest\Kardashian combo platter is delish!

Harry Windsor-Mountbatton. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t.

I don’t really get the snark about Harry getting jobs. Aren’t these the kinds of jobs most rich people get to stay busy and contribute, to find meaning and purpose in their lives? Harry clearly wants his life to mean something. He craves meaning, contribution, and belonging, just like most of us do. People with his…

The epitome of the “get someone to look at you as X looks at Y.”

That’s a beautiful man and all, but I’m mostly struck that he really, really takes good care of his dog. That’s a shiny, healthy, happy doggo having a great doggo day.  That fills me with joy. 

I can’t believe I didn’t think of it until just now: tell him (the husband) to put himself on mute.

Dear letter #2,

For a few glorious seconds I thought you were married to Mr. T from A-Team. I had questions.

Totally starring that last sentence. It is fucking exhausting having to be the outlet for my husband’s needs because he’s too scared to make friends.