What’s with the Plexus bullshit that’s taking over? If I get one more private message about the damned Pink Drink I will punch someone.

I’m like “Does her mother follow her boyfriend on IG?”

Shameless tangent: I’m on NextDoor (God save me) and the other day, someone uploaded seven photos of their bedroom set to the app. I spent like an hour, open-mouthed, looking at pictures of the most dirty-ass bedroom I have ever seen. The bed was unmade. The sheets looked like someone’s ass had exploded all over them.…

Marry me.

Oh! Oh! Can I piggy back here? I’m a Texan with family in Kentucky and Georgia. I plan to watch AMC’s Preacher, but I’m already wincing at Dominic Cooper’s AWFUL drawl.

I knew you were a genius!

They are now “cool with you.”

I’ve watched a fair number of von Trier films. (I’m scared of Antichrist, and Breaking the Waves shattered me.) But I thought Melancholia was so incredibly dull.

I dunno. My girlfriend would stop paying attention to The Daily Show after the opener. I watched the whole show, but felt like the interviews were the beefiest part of the show. But I never timed them and could be wrong.

Never liked her. The way she interacted with Chuy just grated on me. It seemed like all ridicule, no affection.

Way back when Dangerously in Love was climbing the charts, I made a trip to target. This young black man was walking down the housewares aisle singing “Naughty Girl.” It was pitch-perfect - countertenor range and all — and he was in his feelings.

Ahem. All of my family lives in Kentucky. They wanted me to tell you that you better take back the comparison to Kennebunkport. These guys are as Republican as one can possibly be. They probably brag about “being to the right of Mitch McConnell.” Kennebunkport is a repository of pinkos to these men.

*dies*

And suspenders!

Bow ties don’t bother me.

I remember watching Trapped, in which Kevin Bacon plays an abductor and Charlize Theron plays the abducted mom. The rape scene was shot as a fucking seduction.

I saw The Core in the theater. It was a fun, big-budget flick and I enjoyed it. But something was weird. Then I got it. There was no contrived romance. Hillary Swank played a formidable astronaut who didn’t have to be softened by a romance with Aaron Eckhart’s character.

I presume he thinks I sobbed so hard for so long that I am no longer fat.

Oof. Miscarriage. I’m really sorry.

I have never had any problem NOT asking people about their reproductive plans. I get the curiosity, but I don’t ask. (I still have a powerful desire to fondle the bellies of pregnant ladies — I refrain).