I think you just won.

HAWT!

I wish I had thought of that majestic Kinja-name.

I am hot, yet not single.

I can’t disagree with you, really, Jia. I freaked the fuck out when I read that maxi-dress post. I feel stupid, especially considering your most excellent riposte.

Graphic’s Level of Mind-blowing Awesomeness and Hilarity: +1,000,000,000,000 !

This is the most exquisite distillation of truth about Lilly Pulitzer dresses in the entire COSMOS.

Damn straight, Princess! I am visiting family this afternoon and I’m going to wear a maxi-dress because they are pretty on just about everyone. #BringingtheHawtness #LovesOutdatedSlang

To each woman her own opinion, but I’ve never seen so much verbiage used to express so little, so ineptly.

I don’t know how Boy Scouts in Arkansas operate, but I am the mom of two Eagle Scouts and my husband volunteers as an assistant Scout Master because he works two jobs.

Thank you for an excellent article, and thank you for giving the public some great journalism.

One of the biggest regrets of my life happened in the late Eighties, and it involved romance novels. A friend had transitioned from doing public relations to writing steamy Harlequins. She asked me if I wanted her to recommend me for a writing slot. I (graciously) said “No, thank you!” (I was working full-time as an…

Only a eunuch could remain immune to the allure of... The Smoldering Brunette in a Wrinkled Blouse!

I think he piled it behind the mound of gasoline-soaked dryer lint.

Can you explain how you use them?

Thank you! I’ve never tried it, but I will now! Thanks for the pix.

I flat-out suck at straightening my hair. Whenever I see “Millionaire Matchmaker,” host Patti Stanger is always telling the curly girls to “Get that hair straightened! Men want hair they can run their fingers through!”

I am CONVINCED scarves were the brilliant invention of a boob-less woman. If you have any chest at all, they make you look immense — especially those wrought-by-Satan’s-hand INFINITY SCARVES.

Especially if it involves sports. Every time my husband listens to sports radio “smack talk,” every man with a grievance seems on the verge of a PBR-fueled nervous breakdown.

I’ve always found it odd that some of these hideous, sadistic experiments might have been performed on slaves on “make-shift operating tables,” but her husband, the doctor, seems to be implicated very rarely in these accounts.