I don’t really see those sex stories as either of their material. They’re like urban legends that belong to no one. It’s what you do with them that counts. Patrice’s delivery was rapey. He thought the stories themselves were funny, which is upsetting. Schumer acknowledged the rapeyness of them and turned *that* into…

She needs to raise awareness for African wildlife next!

a fine of $4,000 if found guilty.

They are! WHY NOT JUST POST THOSE. The women in the original portraits are all absolutely gorgeous.

You forgot Family Sins. It has everything: A wicked foster mother who is also the pillar of the community, incest, a Stockholm Syndrome woman locked in the basement, a brave escape, a cop who is the only one who believes the victim, a trial where everyone turns on everyone else and and awesome monologue that includes…

Vintage Lifetime movies are EVERYTHING. I recently watched The Deadly Look of Love. The ending was hysterical because you could see the microphone bobbing in and out of the frame.

YES to Friends to the End!!! I still remember those shitty songs. “Does anybody hear me!?”

Ok, now I’m just being greedy because this is my second post but I just remembered it and had to share.

That my now ex-husband had a bachelors degree and a moral compass that would stop him from embezzling a six figure sum, accumulating massive debt behind my back, and creating his entire life story out of lies.

Possibly not a lie, more of a delusion but I don’t know when else I will get to say this: for several years I firmly believed that I was the prince of India. This probably started around the age of 3 and continued until shortly before my 7th birthday. Not only was I convinced that I was the rightful heir of the Indian…

I’m the youngest of 6, 16 years younger than the oldest. She and I look exactly alike, so it was only natural that I believed my other siblings when they told me I was her child. Even my mom was in on it. For years, we’d go out to restaurants or stores and she’d introduce me as my sister’s daughter, telling people she…

Growing up I lived right next to a cornfield. My very blonde, very evil brother told me that he was one of the “Children of the Corn.” I totally bought it, and he totally sold it by hiding in the field and jumping out to scare me. He also told me that Florence Henderson could read my mind. Just, why? So I was…

My best friend’s super cute Irish cousin, who was visiting one summer when I was in college, told me that the local custom during lambing season was to play “lamb ball.” Lamb ball is just like what Americans call bowling, except the Irish play outdoors and use the stillborn lambs to knock over sticks. My horror was…

I’m an old, and this is the 500th reply or something so perhaps no one will read this, but I was a five-year-old sitting beside my mom in 1963 when we were driving around town, and the radio said that JFK had died. I asked her what happened and she said that he slipped in the shower and hit his head.

Our parents told us we had an older brother who had been really bad and because he was so bad they had to put up in the really big thick tree in our backyard. His name was Steve. When we were bad our parents would remind us about Steve. Realistically they only talked about it a few times but that shit was real to me…

I convinced my then girlfriend (now wife) the the accapella group at her alma mater was having some of its awards taken away in a steroid scandal.

My husband-at-the-time re: his kickball games: no I shouldn’t go to one, I wouldn’t have fun, wouldn’t like it. Oh right, he was screwing one of teammates.

My mom told me that chickens are made when a hen lays an egg, then the rooster sits on it to fertilize, and once he’s done the hen sits on it some more until the egg hatches. I don’t know why I grew up thinking chickens were somehow exempt from sex in order to procreate. It wasn’t until college that I realized the…

Hmm, it’s not crazy at all but I’m very fond of it.
When I was about 4 or 5, I begged my dad to read me Heidi, which I’m sure I was only interested in because the cover was cute as fuck. He starts reading normally (imagine a very heavy Turkish accent) for a few paragraphs, stops abruptly, and then tells me he can’t…