Nice. I’ll provide the wine. My friends and neighbors already think I’m creepy stepford-levels of clean, I might as well go Full Stepford.

Hi. Do you drink wine, too? Do you mind if I do? Do you travel to Virginia? Are you allergic to dogs / cats / toddlers?  Can we also do karate in the garage and become best friends?

So do that! I have. My husband’s shit goes on his side of the room, not all over the fucking house. It’s not your shit. You’re not his mother.  Also, they claim to “not see” things when in reality, they are big fat liars.

It does seem like this would set in motion, at least grounds to toss out the ruling against Stormy Daniels, given the points you just made.  “Breach of contract” cannot apply if said “contract” is illegal and therefore, not a contract.  Yes?  No?  Bueller?   Chief?  McCLOUD!

Manassas is further south / west than Chantilly - I was AT the gas station on Sudley right before the sniper hit that location. I also had bright, long, fire-engine-red hair. I turned in, decided I was too broke to get gas before getting paid and wanted to spend that money on partying instead, and left. 5 minutes…

... “the moss that grows on sloths” .... this is how relaxed I want to be.  #chillgoals

Also, did she “sit it out” or was she maybe like... not invited

You’re welcome! I, too, have had a Monday. Pretty sure this means we’re now required to be either best friends or mortal enemies.

*Sisters-in-law ... I only correct you because this is one of my favorite grammar rules, and one over which my husband and I bonded during our continued consultation of the Holt Handbook, while dating. It was like, “Secretaries general... let’s get married”

“Laydehs, just hay-ow can weh go ‘bout excludin’ PEASANTS who aah NAWT in ahh ciihrcle? Whyehdonweh just NAWT weah whaaiite afteh Labor Day and NAWT tell ennehwoan else? I DO DECLARE!”

(Note: phonetic spelling meant to reflect antebellum south white ladies choosing to not wear white after labor day but might be skewed…

“Young children are the poorest age group in America”

Tareq was also thoroughly convinced she had been kidnapped, notified the FBI and it turned out, she just ghosted on him, snagged Neal Schon, booked it to California and sold their live wedding footage on pay-per-view for $15. Why do I know all this. Really... why.

I mean ok but how are you gonna blow smoke like a dragon though

.... it’d be a lot cooler if you were...

I too feel vindicated. I typically remove the top bread from whatever burger / sandwich I have, eat the guts with a fork or my fingers, and discard the inevitably now-too-soggy bottom bread.  Waitstaff tend to panic whenever I try to order something “open faced” ... and I’m in DC.  That I don’t get.

It’s wonderful to have set boundaries.  I find a lot of “old men” are doing this, including both my FIL and father, in different ways.  Neither are who I thought they were, and who they’ve chosen to become is... concerning.  Either that, or like you said, our entire childhoods were lies.  Or both.  It’s confusing, it…

I live there! She can crash in my large, comfortable guest room, complete with a king sized bed, flat screen tv, cats, the pitter-patter of tiny children afoot, enormous dogs, hot meals and marital bickering all for the low low price of drinking wine with me a time or two.

Lemmy. Yes, that Lemmy (is there another?). Green room at 9:30 club in DC, summer 2009. He requested I do shots with him, sit on his lap and kiss his cheek (ON THE MOLE SIDE). I did all of these things, and have photographic evidence. Somewhat cheap and slutty? Yep. Worth it? Abso. Fucking. Lutely.

“Panic Free Pregnancy” was a similar relief for me, also written by a doctor.   “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” was panic inducing (get it?) nightmare fuel.  

This was beautiful. Thick sliced, center cut, medium well, unfloppy, smoke that shit if you must but put it on my plate because I’m ready to eat.