Works for Trump, whose tagline is “lie and deny ‘til you die.”

Just need to vent: I’m exhausted by all this constant teetering on the precipice of the thing that’s going to finally take Trump down. At this point, I’m convinced there is no thing, and I’m starting to believe there never will be.

My grandmother never wore flats—even her house slippers had heels. Later in life, she couldn’t lower her heels to the ground when her shoes were off. Her doctor told her that all those years of wearing heels actually shortened her calf muscles and made her Achilles tendons inflexible. So yes, you’re correct, there can…

That movie scared the ever-lovin’ shit out of me. I was about the same age as Rhoda when I saw it and super impressionable. I haven’t been able to watch scary movies since then, and that was many, many years ago.

As a career writer/editor, I fully agree with your “grammar is hard” statement. I had to explain a rather obscure grammar rule to a client last week. She was embarrassed that she didn’t already know it, and I told her not to be, that it’s impossible to fully grasp all the intricacies of the English language. I can…

I’m 60 and many of my contemporaries are opting to let their hair grow out and go grey. I toyed with the idea briefly, because it would be nice—and much less expensive—to surrender to my roots. But underneath this red hair dye, my hair is 100% white. And I just can’t do it. Not yet, at least, and maybe not ever. I…

I clicked on a story about him just yesterday and read it through before I noticed the date. It was written in 2015, and focused on his planned metamorphosis from punk asshole to born-again, saintly, get-along-with-everybody Bieber. Before I realized it was old news, it made me happy to see that he really seemed to…

I’ve been nauseated since November 9, when the world turned upside down. After that, nothing surprises me, including the fact that a rapist is deemed more credible than the scores of women who all tell the same story.

While I know there are men who have encountered sexual harassment, it’s by and large a female experience. After my husband and I had been dating for a couple of years, I spent a long drive back from a vacation spilling everything about my past. Much like your husband, mine was very uncomfortable, and I’m still not…

Another fellow old here. I told my husband just the other day that it would be easier to name my friends who weren’t sexually harassed than those who were. I can say without equivocation that every single woman I know has dealt with it in some form, whether it was as simple as catcalling or as serious as rape.

Yes, yes it does. Excellent point.

Yes. Morgan blasted Grande on Twitter because she came back to the U.S., saying she should have stayed to comfort her fans. When he was confronted by another Twitter user who wondered what he would have done if he had been in Grande’s place, Morgan said, “I can 100% guarantee you I would stay and visit those who had…

Hopefully her hospital visit will cork Piers Morgan’s extraordinarily judge-y cryhole. When I first saw his comments about her apparent lack of compassion and concern for the bombing victims, I spent 10 minutes shouting, “Fuck you!” at my computer screen.

And yet...AND YET, I watched a recent CNN interview with several Trump supporters, who were asked to grade him. There was one C and the others were mostly As. When they were asked what they liked best about him, the first one out of the chute said, “Because he always tells the truth.”

I tell myself there’s more of us too, but not with complete confidence. Trump’s election rocked my world and has made me question everything I thought I knew. I am comforted by the number of popular votes Hillary got—thereby confirming there are more of us—but bottom line, that motherfucker still won.

This story was my undoing this morning. I cry nearly every day over fresh headlines related to the hate and violence Trump encourages and helps perpetuate, but this one really got to me. Maybe the cumulative effect caused the dam to finally burst, but after reading about this, I broke down in heaving sobs while…

Karma, baby.

My tolerance for drunks in general is low these days. I’m a teetotaler myself, not because I have anything against drinking, but because alcohol made me act in ways I didn’t like and couldn’t control. I was never able to discern the line between pleasingly tipsy and wasted, so it’s easier to just not drink. That means…

The cognitive dissonance on display these days is wearing me flat out. I can no longer drum up the energy necessary to sustain my righteous indignation, and my outrage meter broke long ago.

Your comment reminded me of this: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/03/04/girl-gets-gifts-from-birds_n_6793132.html.