Hot take: Clark County doesn’t know how to spell bizarre.

The original version of Our Bodies, Ourselves had a shocking black and white photo of a woman who died from a coat hanger abortion, crumpled over in her closet.  I will never forget that, or stop fighting for this right.

Just club kids in general, so I think you might be off the mark, but who knows?

I was sure my ovaries were completely desiccated, but DANG. That baby made something erupt amongst the cobwebs.

That’s wild, because while I’m genuinely fearful of ladders and those type of fire escape stairs you can see through, I don’t think I’ve ever dreamed about them!

Jesus wept.

Hahaha! Didn’t even notice those.

Flip! Flip! Flip!

I wanted to like it, and hated it.

Third recent remake, counting the updated version Jezebel covered a few days ago.

Disappointed in MIT.

Right about then, the massive cape proved to be a hindrance.

Thanks for the kind words, and for taking the time to write.

I have a teensy vintage canned ham (read: no shower) but in those gigantic RVs with pull outs, the showers are separate from the toilet. Some have bath tubs.

I realize “contemporaries” is a five syllable word and all, but let me break it down for you.

I apologize, I didn’t realize she was still on the map at all, musically.

Trump’s comments about November gave me fire in the belly. Let’s get plenty of those Republican seats turned Democrat, folks!

I used to like Madonna, but her insistence on NOT aging gracefully is sad to me.

That first picture looks like Belle Watling’s bordello.