You know, I didn’t call your reasoning stupid or call you insane. I challenged your logic and explained my motivation and position. But you’re just insulting me instead of arguing honestly or backing up your reasoning or making any effort to hear, so we’re done. But I do note the metaphor, and your dishonest (and…

You just need more practice. I used to faint every time somebody gave me a long bear hug—just slithered out of their arms and hit the deck.

I corrected you because nuance doesn’t apply—we either give the State the right to kill its citizens, or we don’t. I argue because you imply that nuance is possible or meaningful to this right when it isn’t.

It’s black-and-white for important reasons: we’re talking about a legal permission to kill people or...not. There’s no grey area between life and death, and no grey area in whether the State can kill its citizens legally. It’s a yes or no question.

“You don’t really appreciate the actual difference in a lot of ways until you are well past this age range.”

Stop being obtuse and projecting. You’re the one who got riled up and made an unnecessary stink about something meaningless, which is *actually* annoying to those who care about the real topic. Abbreviations are not an actual problem, but myopic derailing in the midst of important topics is, so the pushback is…

His defense attorney: “Consider the mad energy, the senselessness...”

Why do we always have to do this? The death penalty argument isn’t about the criminal; it’s about our principles. You believe in those principles or you don’t, and emotion doesn’t play.

Yeah, I feel like any adult man who pursues a career focused on pre-teen girls, in a way that requires a ton of physical contact, tons of attention to their bodies, and a “trust me and obey my instruction completely” atmosphere, needs to be vetted pretttty thoroughly.

Because shorthand happens all the time and it’s a tone deaf thing to highlight in the context of the topic, especially when you pretend you “hate” being that person (which implies it was exceptionally important or you wouldn’t bring it up).

I can’t even be bothered to check where *I* am at any given moment, so no.

You’re projecting weirdly and then attempting to attack your own non sequiturs so I’m gonna let you continue the conversation you’re having with yourself and go find something more rewarding to do, like poke needles in my eye.

People are inherently selfish. Voting is supposed to be one of the two or three moments per year when you try to be a little bit bigger, and there used to be some patriotism in that understanding.

That’s so disingenuous, comparing Hillary’s ground game to Obama’s without mentioning the completely unprecedented, insane, racist/sexist/criminal/corrupt/brain-damaged wildcard Trump factor, which is unlike anything any candidate has ever had to confront, ever. It’s flatly dishonest to pretend any historical metric…

It was probably the combo that indicated intent. You’d never bring any kind of knife to the President-Elect’s home without expecting trouble, much less packed in with a fake gun, a garrote, and any amount of gun powder. But it’s fourth degree possession; he’ll be fine. Concealed knives longer than pen knives have…

And excuse me, but why are you pursuing a spectacle five minutes after you got out of the psych ward? Fucking go the fuck home and get your mental house in order. Try taking a break from the fucking public displays, turn off your phone, and get to work saving your life.

Not calling you out! Just leftover rage from that candle-bitching video and general contempt for people who pay a hundred dollars for something they could make in five minutes with things on hand. Whyyyy. Also I’m annoyed at myself for bitching about bitching, so I lost some clarity and purpose along the way.

Lilac is my jam, too. Just make your own—melt some wax or old candle stumps, add lilac perfume oil, and pour it into jars around a wick or even some string. You’ll have ten candles in twenty minutes for next to nothing.

I hate everyone, but I especially hate everyone who spends more time bitching about candles than it would take to make them by hand for almost no money. These people live to have problems. They invent problems, and talking about those problems and how others didn’t solve them becomes their craft. Instead of just…

Oh she’s real. People obsess over insane shit when they either a) have no meaning in their lives or b) are running from things that matter. This is a person who will flip her shit about a bent fork, but who is chirpy and detached from her husband’s infidelity and her alienated gay son.