Holy...hai, John Legend.

'actually the most anti woman song of the year'

In the words of Public Enemy's Flava Flav, "Yo, Kill-o-Gram, how you figger?"

Like Olivia Pope would use a pay phone.

No, contain your lousy yard ape. People think they deserve this medal because they fucking reproduced. No. You accomplished something the lowliest bacteria in the 6-month-old leftovers in my fridge can do. You made offspring. Congratulations. You ate a ham sandwich and nine months later, you took a human crap. Now…

REDRUM!!

Not to be a pedant, but her last name is Germanotta. Also, I never thought this song could be any more terrible, but life is full of surprises.

Of course it worked. You don't mess with Veronica Mars.

This story would be really fun if the octopus was alive and had a name. "So sorry, we don't have your bread, but we thought you'd like an unusual pet."

I was very proud of this masterpiece, which I usually share to get everyone in the holiday spirit. I guess it does come earlier and earlier every year.

Like a houseguest. Marvelous at first and full of possibilities, but if left unsupervised for too long, they can be a real pain.

And now I feel like a jerk, wheeeee!

She is still trying to make this happen? Sad.

This is my cat, Pippa. She turned five months old on Wednesday. Water fascinates her.