Hell, I’ll start a rumor about, and claim to have, outrageously large labia if it’ll get me a chance at an upgrade. #NoShameInMySeatGame

They’re saying, “Boo-urns”, obviously.

A small sprinkling of monster truck wouldn’t go amiss.

I feel kinda awful for laughing at that like a loon, but I can’t even front like I didn’t. Have a star, damn it!

Ha! That .gif is going in the file.

Ganking fully approved—apply liberally, wherever needed!

Grow one. We’ll wait. And then point and laugh at the result, you Trump-humping, micro-Chad.

You chose more wisely than I.

Why, bich?

Well, I’m sold. In which direction shall I lob my panties?

Oh, my. Having been—as an adult—summarily confronted with the surprise usage of this word by non-black people I’d previously thought okay (one of whom I had been making out with literal minutes before they dropped that particular bomb), my reaction was fairly explosive. As the chick in one of the aforementioned…

I see no lies here.

Yes! And I do so love that every time they try to play the King card, they completely ignore his very pointed words re: not being satisfied with a negative peace.

It might also be that this person wants to be able to make this info available to any of the descendants of those formerly enslaved, should they inquire. Having been on ancestry boards with descendants of slave-owning families bearing some of my ancestors’ surnames, and not being able to get a single response to…

This whole thing is simply ridiculous in its disgusting audacity, but it was this part:

I was going to ask the same question. I found his reaction incredibly measured.

You’re welcome.

Thank you for this. I watched Pryor’s Live From The Sunset Strip for the first time since my childhood a few years back. He was insanely smart and cutting in his comedy, and could segue into genuine, touching pathos without a hitch. I still miss him.

O_o

RIGHTEOUS.