This news is like a mouth full of sores.

I have a total fetish for people going down on me. I know, it's just so weird!

Hey everyone,

I hate to admit it but I kind of think those puzzles are hella cool.

I've never been one of those "I wish I was around for such and such decade" types but…

I have been told wet is a blunt that has been dipped in formaldehyde. Happily, I have no way to confirm or deny this.

I mean obviously I am against harassment, and I feel like the whole Harambe situation is pretty tragic and the people who were hurt most by it were the zookeepers who were forced to make that decision and they shouldn't be mocked like this.

I have tried in vain to find my old LiveJournal. That was some quality angst.

The Fenway location has a giant screen print of Samuel L. Jackson biting into that burger, and one of John Belushi that says the word "cheeseburger" over and over behind him, and the best breakfast burger I have ever had. I'm a fan.

You've got red on you.

Hey, Spidey, could you do me a favor, and turn off the fucking dark?

Starting a petition for a Christmas special that is a gritty documentary following Officer Meow Meow Fuzzyface on patrol around Hollywoo on Christmas Eve.

And that makes perfect sense to me, too. My advice generally does come with the caveat of "but what do I know, hell, look at my life."

I mean, I guess depression manifests in different ways for different people. Personally I have dealt with it from a pretty young age, and while I care very little about myself, I will throw myself head-first into the problems of my friends. Caring for others is often the only thing that makes me feel normal or…

I have not seen that episode, but if "as bad as that guest appearance" equals "really, offensively, please-god-strike-me-deaf" bad, then yes, it is just about that bad.

Oh god that opening scene. Of course it's a flashback and the past can't be changed, but I was internally screaming at him to forget about the script and just fucking be there for her for once in your goddamned life, BoJack.

I look forward to my next high school reunion to see how many people have this tattooed on them.

The fact that the drywall was set out on a mirror really got me.

I'm pretty sure it happened, but honestly, don't hold me to that.

Five hundred miles is a long drive inside a car.