maybe Stassi can paint chevrons over them and call it art.

It really is. She has no charisma and is a crappy friend and girlfriend. It’s bizarre that anyone, let alone an entire clique, would let her boss them around.

She’s a waitress, not a bartender!

For some reason, I imagine one of their gifts was a huge forced perspective painting mostly featuring Scheana, clear and in the foreground, and Shay, blurry and in the background.

That episode/plotpoint was amazing. Especially the fact that you-know-who had the foresight to tell Jax in advance to just always assume a text from her might actually be a text from Stassi pretending to be her. Like, they knew that kind of thing would eventually happen and prepared for the moment. Mind blowing.

Stassi still needs to rebuild her strength from her apology tour. I fully expect after this wedding she’ll come back stronger than ever. But in her weakened state she’s no match for a bridezilla.

Really? I don’t think so. Trump supporters are just *waiting* to have someone do something like that so they can play victim some more. And besides, it takes an especially evil person to spit in someone’s food/drink.

Voter suppression and disenfranchisement, gerrymandering, the electoral college are all things that can be changed. WE can change those through joining efforts to help register people to vote, voting in the mid-term elections, and attending local and state-level meetings for causes you are interested in. Showing up…

Got a better one. Get to work. Volunteer. Donate your time and/or money at organizations that support the same causes you do. Run for local office. Protest peacefully. Protest not-so peacefully.

Ramona and Vicki: Turtle Time to Whoop It Up (Across America)

Oooh! I’ve got one!

I actually did stumble onto her on fb a few years ago when she liked a post of a mutual friend. I agonized for a few days before going for it. She didn’t reply to my friend request. I waited a few weeks, and then in a fit of frustration, I messaged her. “I understand if you never want to speak to me again after this,”…

Update: I’ve been staring at that old newspaper photo on and off ever since that day last week - trying to will it into making some kind of sense. After posting this story, I felt like I had to look at it one more time. I just realized - that doll the little girl is holding? Is my doll, the one my aunt gave me.…

The house where I grew up was pretty new - way newer than any of the other houses on the block. A typical one-story ranch house that you might see in any stretch of American suburbia. Likewise, all the furniture in the house was pretty par for the course. My room had a little-kid bed, a nightstand, a table and chairs…

I’d heard mumblings growing up of a strange incident involving my family and a famous murder, but my grandma refused to discuss it and I knew better than to ask around. After my great-aunt died and left behind 200 pages of memoirs, I finally got the full story.

This isn’t my story, personally, but it’s one that has kicked around my family for so long that it definitely feels like it’s mine. It’s been told and re-told, but I do think that the central details are very solid.

Okay, so this is the first real life thing to freak me out in a long time. Here it goes.

one of my stories from last year, but hey, it’s scary.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year! I have many paranormal stories but here’s one.

Not my story personally, but from a friend: