I was literally just wine-drunk screaming at (with) my husband last night how Jackson and Rothko are Cold War shills and anyone who pays for boxes and splatters RACKNFRACKNRACKNFRACKN AARRRRRTTTT RAAAGGGEEEE ... so, thank you.  

I walked into a friend’s new place, and his preternaturally hot roommate was sitting on the sofa, alone, laughing hysterically while his laptop read aloud a poem he had written about vomit. I married that roommate. 15 years and two kids later, he’s still the hottest dork I’ve ever met.

Wait is this the part where I now have to yeet myself off a cliff in sacrifice for a bunch of dudes because I’m not sure I’m that committed to this comment thread, no offense

Yes

Maybe you should.

1) OMG TEH BEBEHHH!!!1! S’CYEWWTTT!!!

Fear not; for the ocean of our consumerism is both vast and majestic.

Seven.

There are many, and they all seem to worm their way into my life.  I have an Ashlee, a Brittany, a Sally, an Amy AND a Jen.  Batshit white women on a rampage to fill the void in their lives with any and all perceived and available drama.  I want to study them.

Ok was her name Ashlee because this is ... uncanny

You’re my people. Also, pretty sure we can all just buy a Lordship from the Principality of Sealand, which fucking rules in its rebellion, and put an end to this argument. I will be also commissioning a crown to pass down through subsequent generations. Probably a few crowns. Why the fuck not. I’m a goddamn Lady of…

Make mine a light margarita dragon and let’s die in flames together.

I get it. I just hate it.

I am ashamed to admit I initially read daiquiris as “da-CAR-is”... you know, like DRACARYS, because I need to leave the house more often.

Yeah, fuck her for living the way she grew up and makes her feel good. She’s blonde, so she should just assimilate back into a culture she never knew. Just pick any ole blonde one ! I have a white friend who was born in South Africa and moved to the US when she was 9. She has a tattoo of Africa on her forearm. Is she…

I went to 9 (yes, 9) different schools before college (not a military brat, just victim to a man-chasing mother) and I knew I wouldn’t be in one of them for long, so for like a month in 8th grade, I thickened up my fake bronx accent, told everyone my name was Ludovica (it’s not) and that I “was here for a good time,…

My favorite line was the last one: “Sherman didn’t get back to us.”

https://pagesix.com/2019/09/13/pr-icon-kelly-cutrone-bans-jezebel-writer-for-life/ ... “a generous seat for a Jezebel writer.” *chef’s kiss*

Maria Sherman wrote a shitty article last week about Kelly Cutrone, neglecting to mention she sat in the front fucking row in Dr Ruth’s seat before being told to get up. Kelly Cutrone in turn responded by banning Maria Sherman from NYFW FOR LIFE. And from her funeral.  Not a peep from this den of harpies.  To quote…

See this is precisely WHY I like prancing around my house in heels. I get to be a horsey! But I have very high arches, they’re not uncomfortable, and heels make me taller than my 6'1” husband, which I also enjoy.  Shrug emoji?