“...he should be able to be reinstated.”

Born in Brookfield, I’ll die in Riverwest.

Whoa, motor scooters? Suburban Milwaukee was not cool enough for those.

This exactly. Except replace the Cabriolets with Civics, Dodge Neons and Saturns. Or my mom’s minivan.

I listened Tori, Sarah McLachlan and Ani DiFranco back then (and a little bit of PJ), and liked them all. But Exile in Guyville will forever be my absolute favorite album ever.

You’re not the only one.

I bought season 1 on DVD but kept my pirated copies specifically because of the music. That show got me through some hard times. There was a website somewhere where someone put together lists of the music from each episode-I’ve still got a little Life playlist I listen to regularly.

I’m on the straight end of the spectrum, but my first thought on watching this video was a little prayer for my bisexual and lesbian sisters out there, so that they could survive this video.

It’s pronounced “Graah-pee.” Father Groppi was one of the city’s most outspoken civil rights activists in the 1960s. So no one’s going to make fun of the name.

Yeah, I came here to say that. “....nearly half...”

Yeah. My job would be to make sure they just enjoy the hospitality, not try to decide shit.

I’d be very honored if I could be the official White Girl Wrangler of the Wakandan court. Like, I’d just sit in the back, all quiet, until some white woman like Betsy DeVos or Rachel Dolezal starts opening her mouth to speak. Before anyone even needed to say “Come get ya girl,” I’d be up next to them, whispering in…

My mom has had good success talking to garden-variety homophobes. Mostly she listens and asks questions, but when one family friend talked about gays (his daughter included) not being “normal” her response was, “Well, no it’s not ‘normal’ in the sense that it’s the norm, since most people aren’t gay, but it is…

I can’t be the only one who caught Jemma’s “Allons-y!”

especially if your idea of a rugged wilderness man is a less cerebral and more smug, but just as earnest, Bon Iver.

Royal Dansk tins full of sewing supplies are universal—my mom’s got at least three inherited from aunts and grandmas. Or maybe they’re just another thing we white people have culturally appropriated.

A woman’s work is never done. A black woman’s work is never done, either, but she doesn’t get lunch breaks like we do. Sigh.

Once we get everybody in the room, we lock the building and hand the keys to black women. “Here, take these, you go be in charge now, we’ve got a lot of work to do in here. It’ll be awhile.”

I know, right? Came here heeding Michael’s “Come get your girl.” How you want to divide this up? I’ll take east of the Mississippi, you take west? Mason-Dixon line? We’ve got a lot of rounding up to do.

Donated yesterday, but to any Black women from AL that might be reading this: